Those floating seaweed flowers grow from the seaweeds in the lucid lake.
When sleeping women wake, mountains move.
For a Friend -Du Fu- North and south of my cottage winds spring water green; I see but flocks of gulls coming from day to day. The footpath strewn with fallen blooms is not swept clean; My wicket gate is opened but for you today. Far from the market, I can afford but simple dish; Being not rich, I’ve only old wine for our cup. To drink with my neighbor if you wish, I’ll call him over the fence to finish the cup.
