Читать книгу Iron Mountain - Mark Frutkin - Страница 11
ОглавлениеIt begins and ends with a mountain.
A waterfall chatters down its face
turns to a whispering brook
widens, flattens into a slow river
resolves into a calm lake
where the mountain melts
in its pure reflection.
Mountains so high
it is impossible to distinguish
what is mountain, what is cloud.
In the pavilion
at the mountain’s foot,
a lute
wrapped in brocade
woven to the sound
of the lute’s music,
depicting a scene
of mountains and cloud,
and a lute in a pavilion,
wrapped in brocade.
Wang Meng’s painting “Reading in Spring Mountains”
A circular stamp above the mountains,
the Chinese character for moonlight.
Cursive tree branches tell stories
of prevailing winds, dry summers, long deep winters.
The creases of the mountains
cut tales deep into the memory of the earth.
Clouds brush themselves into wavering ideograms,
and dissolve like secret writing hidden in the skies.
A poem Written on “Hall of Clear Mind” Paper
Paper is the most humble of the Four Treasures: paper, brush, ink, inkstone.
Slight breeze across the page.
Not much to say.
No mountain. No storm.
Cherish the earth.
Cherish the paper,
the trees this is written in
as wind, invisible ink,
weaves among branches.
Nothing much happens.
Only the effect is visible.
for Richard Gravel
The Emperor sits on his throne
at the centre of his palace.
Retinues of servants and messengers
come and go with unrelieved persistence,
but he is alone, always alone.
