Chinese silk

A mountain lake was filled deep with sunlight
and shadows from pines wrote black letters on silk,
a boat was adrift over dream lazulite;
it floated on clouds of white buttermilk.

A graceful triangle of cranes crammed the frame.
Sharp cries of lament broke the silence of thoughts.
A blizzard from young cherry trees died as flame,
it covered new grass  with pale notes of discords.

The mountain peak on the top glittered white,
winds brought fresh aroma of snow melting high.
The orange sun-ball was too bright for the eye
and silence came back to allow rhymes to fly.




Recommend to look at http://www.stihi.ru/2005/01/29-207 the poem by Jena Woodhouse. It has provided inspiration for this poem.


Рецензии
This exquisite landscape breathes with vibrant detail - it's like a draught of sparkling mountain air.

Thank you, Lena!

Jena Woodhouse   31.01.2005 01:46     Заявить о нарушении
На это произведение написаны 3 рецензии, здесь отображается последняя, остальные - в полном списке.