LI SHANG-YIN

Untitled ( I )

The chance to meet is difficult,

but parting is even more difficult.

The east wind is powerless

as the hundred flowers wither.

A spring silkworm spins silk

up to the instant of death.

A candle only stops weeping

when its wick becomes ash.

In the morning mirror, she grieves

that the hair on her temples whitens.

Chanting poems in the evening,

she only senses the moonlight’s cold.

From here, P’eng Mountain is not too far.

O Green Bird, seek, seek her out.