Lanting, again Lanting—
three times a day I trace your flow.
Twenty "zhi" characters,
each "zhi" distinct yet kin.
Six "suo," seven "bu"—no two alike,
one "jing," two "qing"—their spirit sings.
Three "xiu" bear silent thought,
three "xing," four "wei"—each breath alive.
The rest, like "huai," repeat fivefold,
yet seven strokes diverge their souls.
Though paired feet mark this era’s script,
even repeated lines hold weight.
Without the gods’ own guiding hand,
could such grace teach the ages on?
—Written in autumn, 2005
兰亭复兰亭，一日三回临。
之字二十个，之之无尽同。
六所七不殊，一静二清情。
三修有感也，三兴四为人。
其余怀各五，七以异二文。
斯期虽双足，列叙亦或重。
若非神明助，岂能裨后昆。
*乙酉2005年秋写记
