Meandering Stream II
On the way home from court each morning
Im pawning off my spring robes
and every day, I stay by the stream until
Im almost too drunk to go home.
Wine debts are common: even Ive got a few.
Were supposed to live threescore and ten; not many do.
Delving the blossoms, the butterfly,
I peer at him as he peers so deep within, dinting the water, the dragonflies,
touching so lightly as they fly.
They say that even wind and light pass on,
are gone together with the stream.
Given, then, this small reward, I have no quarrel.
Notes
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