Tuesday, July 3, 2018

New Cold Mountain Transcreation 3

Breathtaking and mind-boggling, the waters of the Yellow River,
on and on without end, its way is coursing eastward—
drifting drifting slowly, obscure and never clearing,
slipping by body after body, whose lives appear to pass instead.
But if you wish to ride majestic white clouds,
how can one develop wings?
While your hair is still jet-black, begin—
active or at rest, drop away completely.

from translations: 67-red pine; 100-tanahashi; 64-henricks

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