Deer Enclosure (visiting Wang Wei)
Loneliness on empty hill
Hearing voices of past visitors
Same when visiting deep forest
Green moss shining in reflected light
Literal translations of classic Chinese poetry can be found at chinese-poems.com. This is my interpretation of a poem by Wang Wei. The literal translation, as provided at chinese-poems.com, is as follows:
Empty hill not see person
Yet hear person voice sound
Return scene enter deep forest
Duplicate light green moss on
Image source: Sotheby’s – Deer under Pine Tree, by Shen Quan
More Chinese interpretations can be found here.
Linked to Open Link Night #259 at dVerse Poets Pub.
birch on bank of stream
last leaves of fall float away
drift slowly past deer
loud crack of hunter’s rifle
buck and doe look up in fright
This tanka is my response to Jane Dougherty’s A Month with Yeats: Day Twenty-One (each day a new Yeats quote).
“…by water among the trees
The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh”
Image source: fineartamerica.com
Blondine throws her arms around the neck of Bonne-Biche, by Virginia Frances Sterret,
from Old French Fairy Tales
This doting of hers over that white dear is getting old, fast. I understand that it was a true surprise for her to find the deer standing outside the door, apparently having lifted the door knocker with its snout. Even more surprising was when it nudged her aside as she opened the door and proceeded to enter the house. My house.
There’s something odd about this animal. That white is just not natural. Nothing seems to affect it. Even her favorite stained glass window, which casts shimmering rainbows as the sun arcs across the sky, has no effect. It’s always white!
This whole arrangement is very unsettling. It’s been days, now, and she continues to nuzzle and fawn over this intruder to my sanctum. And I’m getting hungry! I can’t even reach the bell pull. My bell pull. It’s always served as a reminder for her that it’s dinnertime. I swear I saw that damned deer purposely tangle and shorten it.
I’ve always been respectful of our surroundings, but let me tell you – if I don’t get some attention, and soon, I’m going to start climbing those drapes she’s so fond of.
This is my response to Jane Dougherty’s Microfiction Challenge #27 – Rescue, using the image provided. The word count here is
199, and Jane’s critique is welcome.
*Following Jane’s suggestion in her comment, I’ve edited to remove any hint that this story is in the voice of the cat, until the very end. (Previous version: I can’t even reach the drawstring she’s hung for me to play with. When the bell rings, it’s always served as a reminder for her to feed me.) The word count is now 192.
Image source: Art Passions