February 19^th, 2024

Here, beside a clear deep lake,
You live accompanied by clouds;
Or soft through the pines, the moon arrives
To be your own pure-hearted friend.
You rest under thatch
In the shadow of your flowers,
Your dewy herbs flourish
In their bed of moss.
Let me leave the world.
Let me alight, like you,
On your western mountain
With phoenixes and cranes.