ling

Never you mind. Even spoken, you do not understand.

And even so, still you do not leave?

As you are my dream, you are for me to interpret, for me to intoxicate, for me to awaken.

And once I awaken, where will you be?

Awaken.

The wine is run dry.

A fine dream.

What did I see?

The setting light blazing through the clouds midair. Three mounts and eighteen peaks. The endless paths of Shu. The tentacles that are haze. This scenery never before put into painting, nor into poetry.

What did I see?

A poets' gathering at a stream, porcelain cups stopping before one person after another. A long pavilion upon the desert, and in the lone smoke, centuries of people beating the drums of expedition.

I saw both the me contented and unfettered, and the me who sought all solutions, not their details. Dreams are but dreams, for my sake I am, and I am pleased.

Though I am clearly at Zuanjiang Summit, vacant and nameless, it is like I can see the whole of Yan. Nay, the whole of far antiquity, the length and breadth in all directions, all as if the wind flitting past my side.

To see mountains yet now question of stone, to near pools yet now forget of water; such is primality. Perhaps this place should be named the 'Field of Forgotten Water', then.

It is as if... I have seen Nian and Dusk too. Heh. Though we have met not in dreams, I assume out of them we very soon will meet again.

Hah... The sun is through, and water runs yet long... while snowfall flows through vacant moonlit sky.