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Looking For A Monk And Not Finding Him
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User Rating:
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5.9
/10
(18 votes)
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I took a small path leading
up a hill valley, finding there
a temple, its gate covered
with moss, and in front of
the door but tracks of birds;
in the room of the old monk
no one was living, and I
staring through the window
saw but a hair duster hanging
on the wall, itself covered
with dust; emptily I sighed
thinking to go, but then
turning back several times,
seeing how the mist on
the hills was flying, and then
a light rain fell as if it
were flowers falling from
the sky, making a music of
its own; away in the distance
came the cry of a monkey, and
for me the cares of the world
slipped away, and I was filled
with the beauty around me.
Li Po
| Submitted Date |
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Tuesday, December 31, 2002 |
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Read poems about / on: music, rain, hair, beauty, sky, light, world, flower
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