One Thought, a Mortal Life · Above and Below, All Connected · 71 / 102
· Seen in Vain
Taking nothing to heart, hearing nothing, seeing nothing, pale fingers touch the string and set it trembling. Half a life adrift; by the pillow the incense has burned to ash; a flying dove slips into the place of hidden confinement. Alas, alas, alas — once you have left people behind, who will hear what lingers in the tune?
A hundred halts and turns; the tangled strings parted, the notes tuned and the measures set, the heart's concerns washed clean, I look up and the ravine stream sounds close. Eyes closed, I skim past the wind and dust and break through the pass of love; the swings and shakes. Tears have their warmth and their chill; vexed with the , I bear, and keep bearing, the business of dreams. Again I walk where the tower stands empty, and under the moon an immortal butterfly beckons me on.
Glosses—
left people behind: to go away from other people;
bear and keep bearing: unable to bear; to endure, to hold oneself in check.
*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.