Zeng Gong

Twigs still pale with newborn hue,

Drunk on east wind, swagger through.

Daring fluff to dim the skies—

Know you not frost's chastening lies?

Rain spills the pond over its rim,

Through jagged peaks—paths east-west swim.

Peach blossoms' blush-gone without trace,

Only emerald grass fills the space.

At spill-over moment of pond and rain,

Scarlet shadows flurry—petals slain.

Spring's departure weighs my infinite sigh,

Exile's arithmetic: no way to multiply.

To cage all wonders in this tower's hold,

I lean on picture-frame balustrade, world unrolled.

Clouds riffle water's amethyst-turquoise sheen,

Sky drinks mountain's cyan-vermilion dream.

Moon of Huainan melts sutra-chants deep,

Sails from beyond catch winds of the endless steep.

My old robe clings to dust of earthly plight,

While mind's eye chases dark geese in flight.

River wears quicksilver clarity,

Moon-wind composes its own austerity.

My friend's shadow stretches a thousand miles,

This winecup grows heavy with exile's trials.

Born lazy and clumsy—who'd pretend

My circle wasn't doomed to end?

Vermilion strings gather sonatas of dust,

Where's the listener for my antiphonal rust?

Slender scholars stand in tight-ranked rows,

Their thirsty elegance defies drought's throes.

Wind's whisper cleanses worldly cares,

Rain-washed leaves sharpen distant stares.

Emerald daggers pierce moss-stained stones,

Lace shadows crack whitewashed wall's bones.

Return after all things frost has claimed—

See how jade-green flames stand refined!

This western studio's depth always convinces,

Hermit-governor paradox—what office is this?

Winecup holds windmoon, my schedule blank,

A thousand miles of plows sing autumn's thank.

Cloudwater birdsong scrubs my mind's stain,

Jade-sand tinnitus rinses the cold stream's brain.

When absorbed in yellow scrolls' tight creed,

I smell Peak Lu's incense in every reed.

A day's algebra of thoughts,

A night's calculus of oughts.

Daymath plus nightcount—

Seasons compound without amount.

My friend governs that far county,

Goujian's coastal exile bounty.

Does he still recall the way

To parse absence from delay?

I'm but roadside dust awaiting chariots,

How dare eye Mount Song's summits?

Or claim my creek's thin melody

Matches the sea's eternity?

Peak of Virtue, Ocean of Lore—

I dredge them dry to the core.

Yet this sorrowful arithmetic,

Does it reach his politic?

The sea's restless lungs spit clouds that flee and swirl,

North wind whips up thunder's blue concussion.

Four sides of vermilion cage unhook their pearl—

I lie watching mountains drink rain's execution.

Barbarous Chu—history's palimpsest scraped bare,

To whom beg answers of kingdoms that were?

Zheng Xiu's erotic glyphs now erased,

Qu Yuan's verses—world's performative waste.

Peaks gorge on dynasties' fossil bones,

Dawn clouds mate with dusk rain in one-night zones.

Leaning on this tower where suns decompose,

Only my spleen knows how ennui grows.

Autumn's tyranny swells absolute,

Night-insects deploy their sonar pursuit.

Smoke-strangled trees amputate streams,

Storm-fronts occupy mountain regimes.

Dunes preserve barbarian scars,

Banner-fossils march beyond the stars.

While people's suffering never halts,

We scholars blush to discuss assaults.

A jest about pilgrims' hurried whips—

Yet here even I must pause my lips.

Sun hugs the temple at cliff's midriff,

Cloud-milk feeds stone's hidden glyph.

Wooden sandals path to northern grove,

Anchored sails dot the eastern cove.

Min Dynasty's pomp lies entombed,

While rice fields to monastic altars bloomed.

Nine boulevards vomit immortal parades home,

Celestial torches rewrite sunset's chrome.

Wine's surface tension defies lunar glare,

Petals caress ministers' nano-wear.

Incense algorithms warm golden serpents,

Phoenix-fans unfold in hologram segments.

Dharma music's quantum harmonics play—

Yet they crave the vermilion hovercraft's display.

The oil lamp's duel with rats shadows my inkstone,

A waning moon, crows' dirge, far bugles moan.

Exiled where rivers meet—poverty's lease,

Mountains shut—yet dreams fold space to hometown's peace.

Summer anxieties breach my crimson core,

All deeds dissolve into temples' silver sore.

Who'll lend me wings to outrace homing birds?

No more delays—just the horizon's blurred words.

A lone banner dissolves into the world's rim,

Flower-blind gardens mock spring's hymn.

Only tavern drunks still trade in coins,

Their folk songs graffiti the sunset's loins.

Most dread the far lakes-and-streams,

But solitude fits my themes.

Fading tracks won't startle crowds,

Leaving noise defies time's shrouds.

Roaming's an art one can copy,

Wild greens guard my private recipe.

Why drop your homeward-bound oar,

To be whipped by frost's harsh law?

Lotus mirrors fish like floating calligraphy,

Woodcutter's boat rides time's crease through geography.

Rain-sharpened springs split hairs of perception—

Why must South Lake claim reflection's perfection?

Wildflowers graffiti the torrent's chaos,

Banners cast ghost-votes on the swaying bridge.

Absence carves the essential viewing locus—

How dare clouds hide when earth begs passage?

My official photosynthesis steals state-light,

Yet grows thousand-mile cares for human plight.

Mulberry leaves unveil silk-wombs newborn,

Wheatfields bend under autumn's golden scorn.

North pole's thunder stirs my Marxist delight—

Sacred vortex entangles rain-clouds in flight.

No more shall grain-prayers echo vain,

See how full baskets mock the empty refrain!

The pavilion hovers over liquid geometry,

Its lattice trembles with reflected quantum.

Jade-bamboo spears through the grove's democracy,

Twin rainbows bridge the flat bridge's phantom.

Fish auction beauty for algae-coins below,

Clear water exposes cold sand's cashflow.

Don't ask how lotus curves unfold—

Just follow scent-trails through liquid gold.