Zuowang
Become a
Premium Member
and post notes and photos about your poem like Stephe Watson.
From my recent series Mountainless Poetry (AKA Plain Poetry)
Zuòwàng is the title of this piece. Here, too the full title cannot be offered. Though this is a step closer. The full title is as written here with diacritical marks but also including the ideographs in Chinese.
The formatting possibilities here on PS did not (readily?) allow this titling.
In the high valley
I make my Sit and Forget place.
(Truly, though my Chit and Regret place.)
My cushion.
My tea.
These pale wildflowers,
and the hauntings of my heart.
The silhouetted geese,
and the tauntings of my mind.
(Truly, though the dauntings of my no-self.)
The winds blow up the
slopings.
The breeze pools, cool here,
in the dale.
Each Accomplished blade of grass,
each of the thousand million,
sways now South, now Easterly...
Opinionless, the sheaves of green
whither this, whither that;
all bending, all pointing
singly, as One...
I alone, in this high mountain valley,
somewhere above the clouds,
somewhere beneath the peaks,
am delighted by my opinions;
tormented by my opinions.
I sit...
Breezes...
I sit...
To wit:
Copyright © Stephe Watson | Year Posted 2017
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment