Climbing on the rocks
love is felt as a tension.
But the danger of a fall is slight,
the cant of face and torso
against the sky,
timelessly sensual.
Always, my love,
The purr of the sea, odors of the tide,
and jutting rocks
will remind me
of this day
and of
You.
(No. 63 in a series of responses to Han-shan’s Songs of Cold Mountain)
I was enjoying an extended personal retreat, camping on the Olympic coast. Among the few other people I saw were a young couple, as enchanted with each other as with the coast. Why distinguish? I felt a pure, authentic joy coming from them, and I took this mental picture of them climbing one of the sea stacks.
(Numeric reference to Han-shan’s poem reflects the order of presentation in Burton Watson’s translation, presented as Cold Mountain, Columbia University Press, 1970.)
Post a Comment