Relic Environments Trilogy: Book I, Part 2. xvi-xviii

from Book I, Part 2, Revelations of a Lesser Wife
  

A Letter

 
Staying in this inn, feeling sorry for myself

I opened your letter

Love

Admiring the elegant brushwork 


Penglai Mountain in the rain catching the perspective 


A thousand peaks 


Autumn caught by the winds in Xiegu Gorge


I read it in the morning, every word

Again and again, and at night

Curled up in my bed 


In my sandalwood box I have a place for it

Safe with my jasper beads


But just now, holding it in my hand

I can’t seem to let go


The South Pavilion at Chongzhen Temple

(The Posting of Civil Service Examination Results)


Through cloudy distance, mountains

Allowing themselves to be seen 


Spring is ink and brushwork

A skilful season

More suited to some than others 


Who could recognise my poems, cloaked so

In gaudy folds 


I stand on tiptoe with the women

Just glimpsing brightness named

 

Two Poems Addressing Heartache

 
Daydreamer, wake up 


Cuddles under covers

You blink in your dream world

And ten years have gone 


A cage of parrots

Repeating everything you said 


Dew beads the flowers 


You remember early morning

You remember the faces drained 


Willow evenings, bending in worry 


Consider these clouds good omens

Pan Yue knows they only come once 


In love always

He will still be waiting when his hair is white


* 


Against the moon

A mist of laurel

Elegant silhouette 


The wine set before you is a gift

Accept the past

The present

Which tear for joy, for sorrow 


Always the same


By the river, in the rain

Red flowered, as many peach trees

As there are in the world

Relic Environments Trilogy: Book I, Part 2. xiii-xv

from Book I, Part 2, Revelations of a Lesser Wife

Winter Poem for Wen Feiqing

Sitting by the lamp all night

Still no verses

Bedcovers cold

Leaves everywhere in the courtyard

Night winds make a melancholy sound

Somehow, the moon manages beauty

Through cheap curtains

Deep light beyond the screen

Our wishes are the same, but no time for them

So far

Love’s wave has its own momentum

Rising

And falling

These pine woods are not for nest builders

Last evening, a sparrow circled overhead

Calling and calling

Poem for Li Ying

(On Receiving His Poem, “Fishing in Summer”)

I thought you were avoiding me

Living in the same street, not meeting

Even once in the year

Old flames deserve better         

Poems for them appealing to their higher nature

Sweet-barked cassia stippled with new buds

Tao

Snow crystal water memory 

Enlightenment avoids silk, sheer embroideries

If you like, you can follow my footprints

All the way to heaven

The path to love more difficult, misty    

Lost in clouds

 

Invitation to My Neighbour in the West

One hundred syllable poem

Muffled gong, each breath          

How many times practicing clearing          

The high wall between us

I keep looking your way

                       

I am not a statue

The stars themselves a vast expectancy        

The rivers of Hunan stir

Dawn not far

I have made a picnic for the festival

I have pulled the tunes of strings   

Across the sounding-board

The night finds its place in the wine

Homesickness

Yours is here

Relic Environments Trilogy: Book I, Part 2. x-xii

from Book I, Part 2, Revelations of a Lesser Wife

The Empty Bed

In the late afternoon

Clawing at the garden, pulling weeds

She weeps, hearing

Of her neighbour’s husband

Returned

Was it only yesterday, geese

Made their way north

And now, coming back this morning

Noisy migrations of spring

To autumn

Spring

To autumn

Still no news, nobody coming

She knows the reason for chores

Kneeling at her washing stone

Pounding and pounding

Letter to Zian

The road clings to the mountain face

Stones set steeply in regret

My journey from you

Your voice finds its way to me down icy roads

Along the desolate valleys

Snow peaks so far away

I think of the tranquillity in your face

Drinking-songs in spring, gaming all night   

Idle companions

What can I say 

The centre of the pine is sap

Not stone

Something between us is postponed

Little birds, looking for their place

Winter is lonely

A full moon may find us together again

I have said my goodbyes

What souvenirs can I offer but these

Tears welling  

       

Reflections in Late Spring

Oriole chatter carries off my dreams   

I dab make-up over last night’s tears

The new moon snags in bamboo slats

The river beyond, hugging mists

Swallows repair their nests

Beaks mud-clumped

Insects stir, sticky pollen flights

Everything to its purpose

I am adrift in my poems, one by one

I watch them

Floating up through the pines

Relic Environments Trilogy: Book I, Part 2. vii-ix

from Book I, Part 2, Revelations of a Lesser Wife 

The Peony Seller

Spring coming

The wind counts the petals one by one

The peonies gone over

Such longing    

No offers for these wilted ones

Red ripe scents even butterflies refuse

The dust

The dew not grasping these leaves

Waxy, hothouse greens

Imperial gardens coveting such stems

Grafting rarer

Too late then, my lords

Your digging deeper

 

On Receiving a Gift from the Scholar Li

In the high pavilion I arrange your gift    

Unroll woven reeds

Just sitting here

The river nearby

Water memory         

I send in return      

Clouds, cirrus fan

I cannot tell what value    

Only now, this autumn

From our silver sleep I think of you

Setting out so early                  

                       

 
  Love Letter to Li Zian

   I perform rituals with ice, cork bark
   But nothing makes sense

   Again and again, dreaming of Jinshui River

   Huguan Pass

   The mirror Qin Jing gave me
   Will soon be in pieces

   Magpies spiral down

   What message from the swans
   That the Emperor’s zither remains tuned

   The autumn rain on paulownia leaves makes mournful sounds

   My lamp light flutters at the window

   These letters written to you across great distances
   How shall I know they reach you

   Between the river banks, wide blue, this length of bamboo

   Not reaching