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
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