Marie Bortolotto 2017

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Marie Bortolotto 2017


Noisy city -
I long for silence.

- Marie Bortolotto



Don't disturb me,
I'm writing poems to save myself
from silly poems.

- Marie Bortolotto



it's late.
The night is silent.
I sit alone,
listening for poems
that fly in the dark.

- Marie Bortolotto



the hungry city
encroaches on my dreams.
Where can they hide?

- Marie Bortolotto



the idleness
of a summer breeze -
moving shadows at my feet.

- Marie Bortolotto


Walking, walking, walking.
I escape the clickety clack of the city.

- Marie Bortolotto

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Marie Bortolotto 2017

I’m on the trail to Cold Mountain.

Cold Mountain trail never ends.

Long clefts thick with rock and stones,

Wide streams buried in dense grass.

Slippery moss, but there’s been no rain,

Pine trees sigh, but there’s no wind.

Who can leap the world’s net,

Sit here in the white clouds with me?

- Han Shan, Cold Mountain, Chinese Hermit c. 800AD

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Someone criticized the Master of Cold Mountain: 

"Your poems make no sense at all."

"But from what I have read of the ancients,"

I said,

"They weren't ashamed to be poor and humble."

He laughed at my words and answered, 

"How can you talk such foolishness?" 

"Then go on, my friend, as you are today. 

Let money be your whole life for you!"

- Han-shan, Poet of Cold Mountain, Chinese Hermit c800AD

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Marie Bortolotto 2017

Poem by Cold Mountain

If there’s something good, delight!

Seize the moment while it flies!

Though life can last a hundred years,

Who’s seen their thirty thousand days?

Just an instant then you’re gone.

Why sit whining over things?

When you’ve read the Classics through,

You’ll know quite enough of death.

Han-shan, c.800AD, Chinese Hermit, Poet at Cold Mountain