Rain again today. I would post a picture, but too much rushing around this morning and meetings until late tonight left no time. It is finally quiet here at home, dogs snoozing on the carpet waiting for me to go to bed. I am looking through volumes of Chinese and Japanese poetry, reading about Spring in an age past and half a world away. This, by the Japanese poet Saigyo as translated by Burton Watson struck me tonight as I read in our mountain home:
Spring Showers in a Mountain Dwelling--written at Ohara
Curtained by spring showers
pouring down from the eves,
a place where someone lives,
idle, idle,
unknown to others
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