Spending the Night in the Upper Cloister of Ling-yen Temple

High high the white moon climbs above blue groves;
guests gone, monks to their quarters, I'm alone in the deep night.
Rank foods forbidden here, only wine before me,
songs and bells banished, nothing left me but a ch'in .
No object from the vulgar world to confront the eye,
only the sound of the fountain washing clean my mind.
Most of all I love the view east from the dawn pavilion,
Lake T'ai-hu's misted waters, deep deep green.
Author of original: 
Po Ch├╝-i
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.