Rant:
If someone was to make
Melancholia
a drink
it would have been
a lukewarm
cup of black coffee.
I drink it often
without much complaining,
don’t you?
Poem:
Zazen on Ching-t’ing Mountain
Li Po
Translated by Sam Hamill
The birds have vanished down the sky.
Now the last cloud drains away.
We sit together, the mountain and me,
until only the mountain remains.
One Poem At A Time 