THOUGHTS OF YOU UNENDING

Thoughts of you unending

here in Ch’ang-an,

crickets where the well mirrors year-end golds cry out

autumn, and under a thin frost, mats look cold, ice-cold.

My lone lamp dark, thoughts thickening, I raise blinds

and gaze at the moon. It renders the deepest lament

empty. But you’re lovely as a blossom born of cloud,

skies opening away all bottomless azure above, clear

water all billows and swelling waves below. Skies endless

for a spirit in sad flight, the road over hard passes

sheer distance, I’ll never reach you, even in dreams,

my ruins of the heart,

thoughts of you unending.