WHEN I WAS UNWINTERING

you entered into my year,

the thaw that unsealed the snow,

that undamned the ice,

the thaw that paroled the seeds

FISHERS AT HOME

You’re

the sinker,

and you’re the bobber,

and I’m the other, the provider of the worm and the

wait

BALLAD OF THE KNYGHT

Itts no mair redd,

the daye is donne.

The sonne is sett,

the stars are cum.

The knyght doth ryde

strong yonge mare. Oh,

the broadswords wide,

the scabbards narrow.

The cocke grows bold

and lifts itts hedd.

The knyghts gone cold,

and darks turned redd.

A new sonnes born.

The quests now donne.

the knyght hees worn,

and mares undunne.

QING YU AN, LANTERN FESTIVAL

The east wind of a single night

brings flowers to a thousand trees,

brings star glow down the streets,

brings fragrant coursers and carved cabs.

Flutes coo like phoenixes,

Flashing jade lanterns turn, turn.

Fish and dragon lanterns dance.

In her gold and willow threads she

giggles then melts into the throng.

In vain I hunt, hunt for her

then a glimpse in dim lantern light.

–after Xin Qiji

PAINTINGS

Vivid crags though far.

Listen close! Stream’s calm.

Buds bloom but spring’s gone.

Birds ignore your lunch.

–after Wang Wei