by Wang Wei
Every way the emerald trees' shadows.
Each day's green moss free of dust.
Wild-haired, stretch-legged, he sits
By the high pine with half-open eyes.
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The Recluse
Poems of the Day
Every way the emerald trees' shadows.
Each day's green moss free of dust.
Wild-haired, stretch-legged, he sits
By the high pine with half-open eyes.