You were a girl of satin and gauze br Now you are my mountain and waterfall companion. br Long ago I read those lines of Po Chu I br Written in his middle age. br Young as I was they touched me. br I never thought in my own middle age br I would have a beautiful young dancer br To wander with me by falling crystal waters, br Among mountains of snow and granite, br Least of all that unlike Po’s girl br She would be my very daughter. br br br The earth turns towards the sun. br Summer comes to the mountains. br Blue grouse drum in the red fir woods br All the bright long days. br You put blue jay and flicker feathers br In your hair. br Two and two violet green swallows br Play over the lake. br The blue birds have come back br To nest on the little island. br The swallows sip water on the wing br And play at love and dodge and swoop br Just like the swallows that swirl br Under and over the Ponte Vecchio. br Light rain crosses the lake br Hissing faintly. After the rain br There are giant puffballs with tortoise shell backs br At the edge of the meadow. br Snows of a thousand winters br Melt in the sun of one summer. br Wild cyclamen bloom by the stream. br Trout veer in the transparent current. br In the evening marmots bark in the rocks. br The Scorpion curls over the glimmering ice field. br A white crowned night sparrow sings as the moon sets. br Thunder growls far off. br Our campfire is a single light br Amongst a hundred peaks and waterfalls. br The manifold voices of falling water br Talk all night. br Wrapped in your down bag br Starlight on your cheeks and eyelids br Your breath comes and goes br In a tiny cloud in the frosty night. br Ten thousand birds sing in the sunrise. br Ten thousand years revolve without change. br All this will never be again.