Poems of Xue Tao
From this balcony, you can't see the wild ginger.
Below the steps, it's just a wild riot of green.
Stand still here and look. It's as lovely as the
First bloom of morning clouds that dye the palace red.
I think that, over time, Xue Tao spent more and more time outside. And the natural world eventually made her a fine poet. Even within the confines of these little quatrains, her poetry blossoms with the living detail of the world.