I call to my friends, picking lotus,
wonderfully afloat on the clear river,
and forget, in my delight, how late it grows,
till gusts of evening wind whirl by.
Waves scoop up the mandarin ducks;
ripples rock the broad-tailed mallards;
at this moment, sitting in my boat,
thoughts pour in endless streams.

Han-shan

Translated by Burton Watson

(via labrancaro)

(via theantidote)

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