October
I don’t know the
Temple of Gathered Fragrance,
Lost many miles among cloudy peaks.
In the ancient forest there is no human path.
A bell in the deep mountain.
Where is it from?
A brook hiccups through the steep rocks
And sunlight chills the green pines.
In faint twilight where an empty pond curves,
Meditation drives out the poisonous dragon.
- Wang Wei (699-759)
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