I see us arm in arm. No one knows. Only White Moon finds me here. The Deer Enclosure Meet no one on the empty mountain. Hear only echoes of men s voices.
Light falls through the deep wood, Shines softly on the green moss.
No urge now to write poems. Old age is my companion. In error they made me a poet in a past life. Some lost existence had me as a painter. Unable to get rid of ingrained habits, The world has come to know me by them.