One Thought, a Mortal Life · Above and Below, All Connected · 89 / 102
· Two Realms
Straddling two realms, the sacred tree grants an early spring. A civet, rustling, darts about, making straight for the cherry blossoms and butterflies to tease them. A sidelong glance: soft wind, drifting snow; , the clear light deep and still. The dusty world comes running with its news—and in the end, a head full of the is all spent for nothing.
I long and long for the to fly in, so I may retire and go back to the temple of heaven. I have seen enough of the seasons' impermanence; at ease, I let the heart shine as it will. Holding the cup, I sip white tea's slender leaves, and it cuts off the censer's curling smoke. Ah—to cultivate the Way, scheming for nothing; let the fine hour, and all the good in it, make me drunk.
Glosses—
Rustling [xī sū]: a faint, fine rustling sound;
Civet: the li. Like a cat but not a cat; older than the cat family;
Ah [yě fú]: a modal particle, marking exclamation.
*This is an original work. If you reprint 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 Mianlang.