purse mouth, purse king

Purse mouth, purse king, pure deed of the

totally ravenous     rage heart rage sing, rage

sun of the morning need     purse shoe, purse

heart, sure song of an unwilled sage     sage

who? sage mouth, says I of the hunger raw -

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SHEPHERD’S-PURSE by Mei Yao-Ch'en (1002-1060)

People call shepherd’s-purse food of poverty, think it’s shameful. But I call it a rare treat.

I’ve watched families gather shepherd’s-purse. They start at National Gate and head south:

carrying lean iron knives, blades rust-eaten, frost-battered baskets of azure-green bamboo,

they go plodding out, deep into frozen land, and scrape around there for roots and leaves.

Hands so raw they can’t feed themselves, they live in hunger, and you’re ashamed to eat it?

Dining on juicy lamb and red-tailed fish, fine fragrant meats—that, that’s what poverty is.