On the Sixteenth Day I Visit the Temple Again

After ten days I come here again,
climbing, gazing — even more peaceful than before.
The old monks boil lichens for me,
sit with their guest on the mountain top.
From a dark cave — clouds and fog arise.
On a sunny slope — cows and horses graze.
I sigh — I left the city too late
and missed the chrysanthemums this autumn.
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Pien Kung
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