(1037–1101)
Remembering My Wife
Ten years ago you died.
And my life ceased.
Even when I don’t think of you,
I grieve. And with your grave
a thousand miles away,
there is no place for me
to give my grief a voice.
You wouldn’t know me
if you saw me now,
me with snowy hair
and a dusty face.
I dreamed myself home
last night, and saw you
through a window
combing out your hair.
When you saw me,
we were speechless
till we burst into silent tears.
Year after year,
I recall that moonlit night
we spent alone together
among hills of stunted pine.
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