Author Arthur Waley Gently I stir a white feather fan,With open shirt sitting in a green wood.I take off my cap and hang it on a jutting stone;A wind from the pine-trees trickles on my bare head. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments