Drinking the Wine
Drinking the wine
Anonyme
T’ao Ch’ien
365-427 AD
- I built my house near where others live.
- Still there’s no sound of wheels or voices.
- You’ll ask me ‘How can that be?’
- When the mind is remote the place is distant.
- Cutting Chrysanthemums by the Eastern Hedge,
- I look out towards the Southern Hills.
- Mountain air is fine at end of day.
- The flights of birds make for home.
- In these things there is a hint of Truth,
- but trying to tell it there’s no mind, no words.