[Spring Rain at Yangtze River by Le Ran.]
Rain
In twilit crosslight begins
as cocoon unthreads,
brushes earth,
then hard arrowheads, airborne.
Through mosquito net light rays
to daybreak-dreams
as the brass stove's sweet grass
steam spring clothes.
Pond fish whip caudal fin
to follow spillway;
over weir swallows zoom, wheel,
touch wings, return.
Petals have only fallen
not yet blown away,
but wet blooms ruddling bough
are where I put trust.
Lu Yu [Translated by David M. Gordon, The Wild Old Man]
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