Poetry Friday

No. 67

The cold in these mountains is ferocious,
has been every year since the beginning.

Crowded peaks locked in perennial snows,
recluse-dark forests breathing out mists,

grasses never sprout before the solstice
and leaves start falling in early August.

This confusion includes a lost guest now,
searching, searching—no sky to be seen.

  — Han Shan (c. 7th – 9th centuries CE), Chinese Ch’an [Zen] poet.