Star River banks burst, moonlight torrent overwhelms bamboo
screens, the dust flows eastward through halls and corridors.
Outside, under pines, a monk sits, chants a sutra.
Seventeen lines for the monk, eighteen for the river.
Cherry blossom trails skip over courtyard flags,
in the fragrant spaces sunlight dapples, dances.
In amongst the great swirl a nun chants a sutra,
the wind and her trade lines without effort.
First image found here: http://www.art-virtue.com/painting/history/yuan/yuan.htm
Second image found here: http://realmoftokyo.blogspot.co.uk/