No more rain has fallen, but the sky remains mostly cloudy and everything is still damp. The owl's screeches have been replaced by the gentler songs of morning birds. I was alert all night, until a couple of minutes ago. I seem to have hit a wall and can barely keep my eyes open. At east I should have no trouble getting to sleep today, even though the sun will be rising shortly (too soon!)
Sunday Verse
Drinking Wine XVI
by T'ao Ch'ien
I was a youth
who never spoke about
nor sought connection with
the world of men.
Afloat on the warm bosom of a sea of scripture,
innocent, or arrogant, and without doubt
at forty, or fifty, sunk, stayed, weaned
no one thing done, or won, unknown.
Finally, firmly, I found virtues in adversity
where innocent or arrogant I had found none before.
I found hunger, cold: my found now is all
that changes. This rude hut
is well connected with the heartless
wind, heedless court sunk in imperious weeds,
my ragged wretched robes: I carry on
through endless night.
Morning, but the cock won't crow
(Thou needst not go)
No man knows me, no
man who offers wine.
Finally, firmly I hide
my feelings,
here.
