THANKING MASTER ZHANG WITH A POEM I tend to love quiet now in my evening years, not caring much about much in the world. Making no long-term plans, I just keep to myself. Emptied of knowledge, I have returned to the woods. A breeze blows through the pines, loosening my robe. The mountain moon is my lamplight for playing the qin. You ask for the secret of transcending all worldly matter: just listen to the fisherman’s song coming down the river. (Wang Wei, translated from Chinese by Susan Wan Dolling) I'm sending a second poem today because I realized I forgot to send one on Saturday! // Hoy mando dos poemas porque veo que se me olvidó hacerlo el sábado.
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Thank you. You were missed!