Without Title (II) from Li Shang-yin

Angel's Flight, Vol. 4.1 (1979)

Gary Routh

Meeting is hard;
Separation is even harder--
And now the east wind
Has no more strength;
Flowers wither by the hundreds.
Till spring the silkworm spins,
Then dies.  Candles must first turn ash,
Before their tears can dry.  This morning,
Looking in the mirror, I find my hair has taken on
The color of clouds--
Now singing poems in the night
I shall feel the moonlight's chill;
For I have not much farther to go
To reach the sacred mountains.
Bluebird, be a sentry,
Go, seek out a way.

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