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| Jiang Debin |
A Light Breather
The spirit moves,
Yet stays:
Stirs as a blossom stirs,
Still wet from its bud-sheath,
Slowly unfolding,
Turning in the light with its tendrils;
Plays as a minnow plays,
Tethered to a limp weed, swinging,
Tail around, nosing in and out of the current,
Its shadows loose, a watery finger;
Moves, like the snail,
Still inward,
Taking and embracing its surroundings,
Never wishing itself away,
Unafraid of what it is,
A music in a hood,
A small thing,
Singing.
Theodore Roethke
I hardly know what to say about this one. It says it all, and with a lovely back and forth rhythm just like a water eddy. And the arrangement of the lines, too, seems to echo the idea of something small stretching out a little, moving, testing the space around it. And then that last line, the last word - "singing" - perfect. "Taking and embracing its surroundings, never wishing itself away, unafraid of what it is..." words to hold close.
I hardly know what to say about this one. It says it all, and with a lovely back and forth rhythm just like a water eddy. And the arrangement of the lines, too, seems to echo the idea of something small stretching out a little, moving, testing the space around it. And then that last line, the last word - "singing" - perfect. "Taking and embracing its surroundings, never wishing itself away, unafraid of what it is..." words to hold close.
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