eastern pavilion

The splendid pavilion goes into azure mists,
the autumn sun’s clear glow is thrown into disarray.
A fallen rock leans against a mountain tree,
clear ripples pull sheets of algae.

Lavender scales vault, dashing against shore,
a blue-gray hawk returns to guard its nest.
Towards evening I seek out the road I must travel
with tattered clouds flying by horse’s flank.

Du Fu

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