Ancient pine, in emerald, shine bright, shine weak.
Oriole song, in clarity, sounds less, sounds more.
Every year, ten thousand sames, ten thousand differences.
The mirror in the sky gathers no dust.
Tall drift of a bull reed cluster, at its tip,
the very tip, balance kept by a pondering dragonfly.
Fidgets and twitches, then a hover into the azure
yonder, his thoughts with him and him alone.
First image found here: http://www.tumblr.com/tagged/wang-meng
Second image found here: http://funalliance.com/ink/painting/htm/20713078.htm