Willow by Li Shang-yin

Awakening spring: how many leaves!
Rustling dawn: how many branches!
Does she know the pangs of love?
Never a time she wouldn’t dance.

Pussy willows aflutter–hide white butterfly,
Tendrils hanging limp–bare yellow oriole.
All conquering beauty, perfect through and through:
Who would enjoy just the brows of her eyes?

translated by Eugene Eoyang & Irving Y.Lo

One thought on “Willow by Li Shang-yin

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