Like Longings of a Land

Looking out to the courtyard from a wooden window,

You see.

The tan brick wall hasn't been getting along with climbing vines,

No matter how the crack has stayed.

There is only the tranquility of the sleeping lotus,

Rugged rockery,

and the scent of irises.

You know the winding shadow of corridors, the night under the moon.

You know the old driftwood had a glimpse of green on the river floor.

In front of the eyes, is all sight of today,

Recall from the eyes behind, cannot go back to any scene of yesterday.

Windows and the courtyard,

They are waiting for the moisture of the soil after the rain.