Like most people who stay in the northern countries as winter draws slowly to an end, Algy was feeling listless and very tired. So he flew over to a pretty burn which tumbled down the hillside not far from the lochan, and found himself a soft perch. As he leaned back on the mossy grass beside the water, he remembered a beautiful poem written long, long ago in China:
To reach the Yellow-Flowered River
Go by the Green-Water Stream.
A thousand twists and turns of mountain
But the way there can’t be many miles.
The sound of water falling over rocks
And deep colour among pines.
Gently green floating water-plants.
Bright the mirrored reeds and rushes.
I am a lover of true quietness.
Watching the flow of clear water
I dream of sitting on the uncarved rock
casting a line on the endless stream.
Algy dedicates this post to all his friends who are feeling the debilitating effects of a long-drawn-out winter xoxoxo
[ Algy is quoting the poem Green-Water Stream by the 8th century Tang Dynasty Chinese poet Wang Wei, in a translation by the contemporary English writer A. S. Kline. ]