Sorry about this, but this poem keeps wriggling around.
(title) Sweeping Lady of Tiayuan
… shape of those bent shoulders
and her entire body
speaks of resignation
this lady sweeping leaves away
under a weeping tree
as tourists by the hundred
walk past, not noticing her,
staring at fading buildings,
weathered sculptures of wood and stone.
She is breathing on earth
the same air as they,
as she works now, sweeping leaves …
Holy holy holy her autumn breath,
holy her work beneath the trees,
holy her head more than temple ceilings,
holy her arms more than a winding dragon,
her visage holier than the warrior's fierce face.
--
Andrew
http://hispirits.blogspot.com/
http://www.bam.com.au/andrew
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