Τρίτη, 23 Δεκεμβρίου 2014

Li Yu

Li Yu
New Year


Wind returns to this small court

as lichens turn green.

Her eyes and willow leaves

make a sequence in spring.

Leaning against the balustrade

she remains long in silence.

The new moon and the crackers

are tediously the same as the past.



The feast and the music have not yet ceased.

In the pond, ice is beginning to melt.

In the bright candlelight and the faint scent,

and deeply hidden in the painted room,

My temples, overladen with thoughts,

are white like frost.