garden poetry

At the southern edge, around a turn,
The earth is filled by a sea of white;
The day has passed, but I haven’t returned
From this gardenia trance, both scent and sight.
 
 
Original Chinese poem by Zhang Hu
 

Hugging the path in early spring
We walk here hand in hand;
Though grass has yet to spring to life,
To me it’s fresh-laid land.
 
Nothing to do, pursuing the blooms,
The willows have taught my mind:
Again and again I come and go
To savor a cup of wine.
 
 
Original poem in Chinese by Shen Yue

Hundreds of acres—this garden is covered with moss;
Peach flowers now cauliflowers, filling to the end.
Where did the monk who tended this soil go?
Once I was young and now I’m back here again.
 
 
Original in Chinese