Friday, March 13, 2009


Tonight, I took this picture about an hour after moonrise in northern Indiana.

Full Moon

Isolate and full, the moon
Floats over the house by the river.
Into the night the cold water rushes away below the gate.
The bright gold spilled on the river is never still.
The brilliance of my quilt is greater than precious silk.
The circle without blemish.
The empty mountains without sound.
The moon hangs in the vacant, wide constellations.
Pine cones drop in the old garden.
The senna trees bloom.
The same clear glory extends for ten thousand miles.

By Tu Fu, translated from the Chinese by Kenneth Rexroth


David H. said...

Beautiful. You're the man of the moon.

Bureau of Public Secrets said...

Many more Rexroth poems and translations are online at


David C. said...

David H.,

Thanks. This one doesn't quite have the werewolfy feel you mentioned in regard to one of my earlier photos. BTW, don't you think the writers of the Wolfman movies could have come up with a scarier name for Lon Chaney's character than Larry Talbott?


Thanks for the link. I'll check it out.



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