Looking out at spring
Du Fu*
The country has split apart but the mountains and rivers remain,
The spring grass and trees have overrun the city.
Remembering old times, even flowers cause me to weep.
After saying farewell, calling birds unsettle my heart.
The signal fires have been lit for 3 months,
One letter is worth 10,000 pieces of gold.
I have torn at my white hair until
it cannot hold a hairpin.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Times like this, I tend to read the Nineteen Old Poems, followed by Ecclesiastes, followed by W.H. Auden's "September 1, 1939."
That last gets me every. single. time.
Post a Comment