Another working from Ruan Ji to go with the ones I posted last April or
thereabouts:
Freshness arrives
with the fall:
in the curtains
crickets sing,
and mind turns
fretful
as the heart
grows dark;
words
are withheld,
their sense
suppressed.
Soft air
unsettles
these thin sleeves,
the moon sheds
an unmitigated
light.
Perched high
the cock
crows in
the dawn.
Carriage,
take me home!
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