I wake every morning the same person. Same life- history, same mind, same eyes looking. Some- times, when the boredom seems almost endless, I walk out among mountains the same mountains, sky sky, and I understand them perfectly. -David Hinton from Desert: Poems Time after time after time In one, not even particularly long, day I would unwind my whole month of travel. Around 8:30am I made my way to Epic Mountain Sports where…
Rain soaks my hut then the sun shines weather can change in the blink of an eye but not as fast as the breath of existence at dusk it’s hard to hear the morning bell -Stonehouse translated by Red Pine in The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse Last ride I was up early enough to see the sun come up behind the mountains across the Dillon Reservoir. The spiky peaks on the other side of the…
LXXXVIII There are men these days seek a road to the clouds, cloud roads, dark and trackless. Mountains are high with many dangerous crags, green crags above, and down below as well. And cloud roads, where are they? Cloud roads are empty; cloud roads are in empty space. -Han Shan translated by J.P. Seaton in Cold Mountain Poems Coming down from the mountains Overnight I awoke and watched the nearly full moon ripple on the…
My hut is two maybe three mats wide surrounded by mountains on every side my cot couldn’t fit a cloud for the night I shut the door before sunset -Stonehouse translated by Red Pine in The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse Rocky Mountain High I was late getting out of Steamboat Springs as I had some errands to take care of and I wanted to spend a bit of time in town in the day. The…
This is something no one can force besides knowing it’s there there’s nothing to know once the moon shines above a flowering plum it’s too late to look at the blossoms -Stonehouse translated by Red Pine in The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse A Wild Sheep Chase I was up early this morning early enough to see the rising sun tint the clouds above the river bend. I set off early as well, to get ahead…
I hiked staff in hand beyond the pines and found myself on an emerald peak a flock of cranes were chasing a hawk tree shadows darkened the streams thorns made wild fruit hard to pick their scent made herbs easy to find thin smoke veiled the sinking sun red leaves shaded half the cliff -Stonehouse translated by Red Pine in The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse Where the jackalope roam I rode south of of Rawlins…
To get to the end the very end let it all go let it go foam piles up on a pair of lips moss grows thick on an ancient road a wooden horse flashes through the clouds a clay ox thunders beneath the waves a clear moonlit night amid ten thousand snowy peaks a hidden scent says spring has reached the winter plum -Stonehouse translated by Red Pine in The Mountain Poems of Stonehouse High…
Light Rain Blazing summer days: no force could bring them back. Clouds suddenly rising off the river, lovely, so lovely, ducks leave a bridge’s shadow, paddling into fine rain, and butterflies flutter out, frolicking in field breezes. The willow won’t survive nights and days much longer, and waterlilies will only open two or three more times. If the changing sights of a single year haunt your eye, why wonder that a palace lake is ash…
Wandering on Bushel Mountain Gazing all day into mountains, I can’t get enough of mountains. Retire into mountains, and mountains become your old masters: when mountain blossoms scatter away, mountains always remain, and in empty mountain streamwater, mountains deepen idleness. -Wang An-shih translated by David Hinton in Mountain Home Moment by moment do what needs doing The next stage of the route heads into the Great Divide Basin which is 144 miles of high plains…
Pond in a Bowl Breach cut in green-moss earth, it steals a distant flake of heaven. White clouds emerge in mirror; fallen moon shines below stairs. -Tu Mu translated by David Hinton in Mountain Home It’s the ocean flowing in our veins Today was a long ride into the high plains. It began on a paved side road out of Boulder that worked its way up a valley all ranch land to the foothills of…