
a perched heron
watches ripples of its
last attempt fade.

a perched heron
watches ripples of its
last attempt fade.
Whenever I want. Now that I’m all grow’d up.
But I do tend toward the lark end of the lark – owl continuum.
Picking, picking where water flows
From a distant fountainhead.
Moving up the narrow valley,
One may see a stunning beaut.
Peachtrees laden with ripe fruit
As breezes blow by the water
And willows wind along the stream,
While warblers consult with branch-mates.
The more one walks, the more Truth joins,
And more Truth may reveal the Way.
If this world is without end,
The old must be made new again.
NOTE: The late Tang Dynasty poet, Sikong Tu (a.k.a. Ssŭ-k‘ung T‘u,) wrote an ars poetica entitled Twenty-Four Styles of Poetry. It presents twenty-four poems that are each in a different tone, reflecting varied concepts from Taoist philosophy and aesthetics. Above is a crude translation of the third of the twenty-four poems. This poem’s Chinese title is 纤秾. Giles translated the title as “Slim — Stout” and it’s also been translated as “Delicate – Rich.”
Sucess is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.
Not one of all the purple Host
Who took the Flag today
Can tell the definition
So clear of victory
As he defeated -- dying --
On whose forbidden ear
The distant strains of triumph
Burst agonized and clear!