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Her soul has returned to the deep void,      her spirit returned to mist: She stayed among mortal men      for only eighteen years. Yesterday, I gave away her skirts      and sashes to monks, My heart broke: they still were tied      to the strings of her lute.

What if time came to a stop? Surely the end would be struck dumb. Up on the hill the house where you were born is waiting for you to build it again. How and with what — bricks, wasn't it? The chimney's all you can remember: smoke vanishing in spirals like the string of a…

Don't ask how many complaints I have about her black            curls. I am so undone because of her that it's beyond telling. Let no one abandon heart and faith in hope of fidelity. I did. Do not ask me how sorry I am. With one gulp of wine which troubles no one I drew…

in times of rebellion, the seasons perversely scurry by; on cloudy days, the sun is quick to set. speechless, I scratch my white head and lean, grief-stricken, on the eastern gate.

If I flash, you'll appear. Backs turned from the present, how can they hope to greet you? You're just like me, predicted for the very place we'll miss each other. Like lightning and thunder— though we come as one, we're revealed as two.

     There are two things you have      to worry about about her:      she opens up for you      and she closes up on you,      but you shouldn't worry      too much about it because      this is the way she is      and this is the way you are: You just shouldn't mention her name. She loves you in her…

     Fragrant grass on the spring bank in Pa-ling,                  mist thick in the willows,            music fills the towers. The tune of a parting song: my heart is shattered to pieces.      Today I bid you farewell a myriad times.      Red flecked jade plates, gold flecked cups.                        I must urge you,      …