Tz'U No. 13
L
Li Ching Chao
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To the tune of "Song of Peace"
Year by year, in the snow,
I have often gathered plum flowers,
intoxicated with their beauty.
Fondling them impudently
I got my robe wet with their lucid tears.
This year I have drifted to the corner
of the sea and the edge
of the horizon,
My temples have turned grey.
Judging by the gust of the evening wind,
It is unlikely I will again
enjoy the plum blossoms.
Bu metin şairin özgün dilinde (Çince) değil, bir çeviridir.
Kamu malı: şairin ölümünün üzerinden 70 yıldan fazla geçti.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş