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More Windows, A Couple More Cups

A scroll full of poems by poets of talent,
and big pot full of wine fit for saints.
I love to walk out to watch the young bull calves;
sitting, I’d rather stay close to home.
Frost and dew can soak through thatch,
but the moon flowers white
through the window made of old bottles;
I’m poor, but I can build more windows now,
a couple more cups, to go
with the chanting of two or three new poems.

—Han Shan, from Cold Mountain Poems

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