Gently I stir a white feather fan, <br />With open shirt sitting in a green wood. <br />I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone; <br />A wind from the pine-tree trickles on my bare head. <br /> <br /> Li T'ai-po <br /> tr. Waley<br /><br />Li Po<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/summer-in-the-mountains/
