FLOATING ON THE POOL OF JO YA. SPRING
BY CHI WU-CH'IEN
Solitary meditation is not suddenly snapped off; it continues without interruption.
It flows—drifts this way, that way—returns upon itself.
The boat moves before a twilight wind.
We enter the mouth of the pool by the flower path
At the moment when night enfolds the Western Valley.
The serrated hills face the Southern Constellation,