This is taken from a volume entitled _From the Chinese_. Autumn In autumn’s woodland heaven is high and bright, Red plane-leaves strew the ground. Who has a broom with a long handle To sweep the fallen leaves on to the path? A green-clad postman passes through the woodland, Swiftly the white clouds race above the trees; Will they fly over the river? A man who pauses daily in the wood May lose himself in leafy meditations.                                     LIN KÊNG                                     (Translation: Harold Acton) # Explanation