By Wang Wei
In spring trees shrouding palace windows,
a spring oriole sings dawn light into song.
It sets out to startle the world, stops short,
flutters here, there. Return impossibly far,
it hides deep among dew-drenched leaves,
darts into blossoms and out, never settled.
We wander life, no way back. Even a simple
birdcall starts us dreaming of home again.
Translated by David Hinton
From 'The Selected Poems of Wang Wei'