Inscription, on a hermitage wall
A skylark amid blossoms
Of almond trees
Returns a scented draught
With fairer song;
Flanked by terraced fields
Along the valley,
With a constant gobble
The stream is flowing;
Under billowing clouds,
Wearing my gown,
I watch the wind-strewn petals
Surrounding me;
A cup of wine I pour
To mother earth,
Another I drink to
The moment’s grace.
