Courtyard trees in bright colors;
Rare birds sing sweet songs.
All merges in a single thought;
Distinctions are completely gone.
At leisure I often sit apart;
My poem done, I chant aloud.
Dark, dark - the Pine Gate road;
Far, far the thick white cloud.
- Dai'an Puzhuang (1347-1403)
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Photos by S.K.G.