Chill River (9) Meng Jiao The river zephyrs clear the chill, The landscape segues into spring. As flowers drip, their pearls sublime; The dragon-stream thaws, its scales shine. I’m descending the bank, my feet on air, To wash in sweetly scented melt. One crack in a thousand miles of ice, One spoon of warmth and clemency. Blocks of condensed light collide; Remarkably, new ripples rise. Though bloodied in a hundred battles The warrior’s scarred body wakes. 孟郊 寒溪·其九 溪风摆馀冻，溪景衔明春。 玉消花滴滴，虬解光鳞鳞。 悬步下清曲，消期濯芳津。 千里冰裂处，一勺暖亦仁。 凝精互相洗，漪涟竞将新。 忽如剑疮尽，初起百战身。
This is the last in Meng Jiao’s intense series about his frozen river. In this installment, the ice finally melts, in a moment of redemptive resurgence. Meng isn’t going to give us a full description of spring, with its new green life. He contents himself with his excitement at finding a crack in the ice where he can bathe once again.
I am going to do a riff on this. The original inspires me.