Drop by drop rain slaps the banana leaves.
Praise whoever sketched this desolate scene:
the lush, dark canopies of the gnarled trees,
the long river, sliding smooth and white.
I lift my wine flask, drunk with rivers and hills.
My backpack, breathing moonlight, sags with poems.
Look, and love everyone.
Whoever sees this landscape is stunned.
The words take the reader to another place and time, where the moonlight cast an ancient shadow against the reeds. The beauty is the analogy almost etiological in nature, the crisp imagery paints the green with a sense of timeless ambition, the walk with the backpack, on a journey, must have felt magical, marvelous work.
Whoever said poetry did not translate well was wrong; this is beautiful
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
gratefully written- Look, and love everyone. Whoever sees this landscape is stunned.