The Moon in the Morning

During the morning exercise at the Pond the moon was stil visible through the bare treetops near the cemetery. It was a huge pale moon, veiled by grey cloudy strings, just like in Japanese paintings. When I meet the moon in the morning it starts to sing in my heart: “and singing I row homeward on the moon.” I don’t know why; it mused through me already a long time ago. It fell into forgetfulness and it came back during exercise at dawn in the Weser Uplands. It refers to the last strophe of Meng Haoran’s poem on The Whirlpool of Mount Wanshan. The poet sings about untraceable jewels, gifts of fairies to mankind, not to be found for the seeker. So again today I went back home singing in praise of the new morning, thanks to the old Chinese poet Haoran (689-740): “and singing I run homeward on the moon”.