Our hearts are a sea, a lake,
Finally a little pond, where
Spider webs interlock over the round leaves,
And below them our longing
Is only a single drop of dew.
From "Written in the Sunset" by Hsiung Hung, trans. by Kenneth Rexroth.
Pond at Sunset, Fyodor Vasilyev, 1871
No comments:
Post a Comment