Thursday, February 16, 2006

Good Art is Resilient

One of my favorites from the old Taoist poet, Po Chu-i (772 - 846 C.E.). -DN


Finally, after almost forty years of life,
I have a girl. We named her Golden-Bells,

and its been a year since she was born.
Saying nothing, she studies sitting now,

but it seems I'm no sage-master at heart.
I can't get free of this trifling affection:

I know it's only a tangle of appearance,
but however empty, it's bliss to see her.

I'll worry about her dying. Spared that,
I'll worry about finding a good husband.

All those plans to find a mountain home:
I guess they'll wait another fifteen years.

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