Clouds
Clouds swimming in the paddies.
White peacocks pecking at their own reflections.
Sober as temples, the water buffalo
Are knee-deep in centuries.
From underneath their feet,
From underneath the clouds they are standing in,
A ripple is spreading
Which will muddy the stars.
American and Vietnamese,
Peacock and buffalo shall be one,
When the sky falls on the water
And reflection is gone from the Earth.
Page(s) 78
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