| The Chinese Travelogue | (1986)
If you could dull its perspicuity, free it from chaos, limit its gleam,
liken it to a grain of dust, then it would seem to exist clearly.
| | Lao-Tse |  |
12
Perhaps you are the precious ring of the spirit
the stone of blue water,
a voice talking dully
about the terraced gardens.
But look, the winged chariot flies, lamenting,
the wind, the sand, the banks,
the empty ocean.
It’s impossible to say farewell,
and there’s nowhere to say farewell to you.
O person as simple
as salt in sea water, he is not like speech, he is not like a face, he is not
like a word,
only salt with iodine and surf
lamenting to itself
with no one to turn to:
perhaps you are the ring of the spirit
the stone of blue water,
a voice talking dully
about fabled gardens.
Richard McKane
***
12
Maybe you’re the soul’s ring,
the blue water’s stone,
a muffled voice murmuring
about a terraced garden, –
But why has the winged chariot raced with a moan,
wind, shore, a sand dune,
empty sea –
you can’t say adieu
there’s nowhere to part from you.
A simple man –
like salt in sea sprays,
without word, or face, or phrase,
with only the tide, salt and iodine –
having no one in whom to confide
incant internally:
Perhaps you’re the soul’s ring,
the blue water’s stone,
a muffled voice murmuring
about an unimaginable garden.
Andrew Wachtel | |
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