One Thought, a Mortal Life · Stubborn and Foolish by Nature · 07 / 102
· Hidden Edge at the Water Pavilion
A clear spirit drifts loose; the stream's shade lies like bleached silk; the summer heat dies in the misted weeds. The old man of the hills strains his wine; the new green brew sets the body's workings right. He would hurry an open stratagem half to completion, tapping go stones — great craft in an idle game. Sick of decadent tunes, the hidden edge dances wild, and men of letters give chase.
A blunt arrow pierces the dead-end road; wherever the ground is clean, he means to seize the year's work, fleeting as cloud. A baited hook in the water village; across the , room for a fine horse to run. He claims the of the , channels the rivers to the sea — great order, great plenty. A wrath of wears down the parasite clerks and roars out a grand design.
Glossary—
Yānwú: thickets of grass within the mist;
Lùjiǔ: to filter newly brewed wine and remove its impurities;
Lüyi [lǜ yǐ] ('green ants'): freshly made wine;
Jīshū: a figure for the crucial part of a thing; here it stands for the body;
Suìshì: the things one ought to do within a year;
Yunfu [yún fú] ('floating cloud'): brief and quick to vanish;
Duyi [dù yì]: petty officials who prey upon the people.
*This is an original work. If you reproduce it, please credit the original author Shixi Lin; any infringement, once discovered, will be pursued for legal liability. In addition, the accompanying image comes from the internet and belongs to the original illustrator Yichui Wuyue.