Spring Village with Peach Blossoms

I sit by the dark patches of the shore and listen
For the curve of the line as it falls
Through flooding sways: I feel its extension
As a tension, as heightened premonitions
Of the water's laws -- nips and tugs
That cannot be so easily discerned
From trembling hands.

On the other side of the lake a boat
Is shrugging off the water's tide; peach trees
Growing by the bank are drizzling in the wind.

The air recalls a distance and the blue sky speaks
Of the showering sun, of the absence of rain.