Wednesday, July 4, 2018

New Cold Mountain Transcreation 5

I’ve lived for untold autumns here on Cold Mountain
alone and carefree, uttering songs to myself.
My makeshift door doesn’t shut yet there’s calm and quiet.
A spring is murmuring fresh ambrosia in its natural flow.
Within my chamber of rock, an earthen cauldron boils
pine pollen potions, cypress elixirs, and aromatic herbal brews.
When I’m feeling hungry, I merely snack on perennial weeds.
My point of view is so agreeable, I rest on precarious stone.

105-tanahashi; 193-red pine; 194-rouzer; 193-henricks; 21-snyder

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