DAILY PHOTO: Sprawling Danube
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The Mind Electric: A Neurologist on the Strangeness and Wonder of Our Brains by Pria AnandToday, my office is chilly.
At once, I miss my mountain chum,
Who bound firewood in the valley,
Bringing it back to boil white stones.
I wish I could ladle some wine
To comfort on this stormy night.
But fallen leaves fill mountain hollows,
How could I find a track to follow?
This is poem #29 from the 300 Tang Poems [唐诗三百首], entitled 寄全椒山中道士. The original poem in Simplified Chinese is:
今朝郡斋冷, 忽念山中客;
涧底束荆薪, 归来煮白石。
欲持一瓢酒, 远慰风雨夕。
落叶满空山, 何处寻行迹?
I wasn’t consulted on the matter. Like most, I labor under the impression that it came from my parents, but for all I know it was just a random person off the streets who scribbled it on the clipboard hanging off the hospital bassinet. If there even was a hospital…

trunk ringed by fallen blooms,
only the pate contains hangers-on.

bright-fringed clouds
with blackened bellies drift:
summer day sundown.
When tigers chase, I run. When sunsets glow, I sit and watch.

shifting shadow
on sandy bottom betrays
illusory depth.