One Thought, a Mortal Life · Stubborn and Foolish by Nature · 59 / 102
· Midnight Pipes and Song
Tall bamboo sways its shadows, wind runs through the pines, and it sounds like a playing. Before the moon I wipe down my sword and taste a stillness of heart; the past has gone cold — how could I bear to nurse its ache? The banked snow never melts the whole year through; has the ever once come to rest?
The sound of oars goes off into the distance, and another winter comes; training the horse, I make hard going of the road. I remember tea steam rising by the meditation couch, easy talk and laughter, the open heart of youth. For half my life I staked all I had on one throw; grown old, I find I delight in having nothing to strive for.
Glosses—
the sound of oars (ná yīn): the noise of oars in the water;
training the horse (diào mǎ): to tame and train horses.
*This piece is an original work. If you repost it, please credit the original author Shixi Lin; any infringement, once discovered, will be pursued to the full extent of the law. In addition, the accompanying illustration comes from the internet and belongs to its original artist, Yichui Wuyue.