On my next visit he threw me a fragrant star anise branch from the altar. Taking it aside, I discovered he had written on one of the leaves: Gathering altar branches at dawn
Sleeves thoroughly damp—
My dream left hanging—
O that I might see its end!
Moved by this, my heart softened, and I began to enjoy being sent to him with messages, and even obliged him by responding amicably to his questions. [2.8] |
