Yu Xuanji


To The Perfect Master - Poem by Yu Xuanji

Coloured clouds cut into clothing,
fragrant incense from embroidered veils;
the flowers and leaves of the lotus are,
the __ cloak of the landscape is thin.
Halt your steps—hear the orioles singing,
open the cage—let the crane fly free.
Sleep in spring in the high hall!
Wake to the heavy dusk rain


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Poem Submitted: Friday, August 17, 2012



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