Tz'U No. 3

To the tune "Red Lips"

Tired of swinging
indolent
I rise with a slender hand
put right
my hair
the dew thick
on frail blossoms
sweat seeping through
my thin robe
and seeing
my friend come
stockings torn
gold hairpins askew
I walk over
blushing
lean against the door
turn my head
grasp the dark green plums
and smell them.

by Li Ch'ing Chao

Other poems of LI CH'ING CHAO (30)

Comments (0)

There is no comment submitted by members.