HUNG-CHIH CHENG-CHUEH

(1090–1157)

Empty Glories

DREAMS, illusions, empty glories—

sixty-seven years.

The white bird disappears in the mist.

Bright autumn waters run straight up into the sky.

[J.P.S.]

Silly Birds

BABY birds leave the nest so easily!

But it’s hard as hell

to get the shell

off a wise old tortoise.

[J.P.S.]