Search. Search. Seek. Seek.
Cold. Cold. Clear. Clear.
Sorrow. Sorrow. Pain. Pain.
Hot flashes. Sudden chills.
Stabbing pains. Slow agonies.
I can find no peace.
I drink two cups, then three bowls,
Of clear wine until I can’t
Stand up against a gust of wind.
Wild geese fly over head.
They wrench my heart.
They were our friends in the old days.
Gold chrysanthemums litter
The ground, pile up, faded, dead.
This season I could not bear
To pick them. All alone,
Motionless at my window,
I watch the gathering shadows.
Fine rain sifts through the wu-t’ung trees,
And drips, drop by drop, through the dusk.
What can I ever do now?
How can I drive off this word —
Hopelessness?
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Comments
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wow it was really awesome...i was able to sing along with it in my head...it was so very poetic
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i'm in a rush to go somewhere now, but i love what i just read/ it's very creative, different style. i'll be reading this again later on when i have more time. great work though.
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The technique used to open this piece was a suprise and a very effective idea. It certainly starts with a rapid pace, this is a sorrowfull piece, but one clebverly crafted.
I shall return to this again for a deeper read.
Andrew
Edited on Sep 30, 10:03 because ''.
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