The Tomb of Little Su by Li He

Dew on the hidden orchid,
like crying eyes.
Nothing ties a love knot,
flowers in mist I cannot bear to cut.
Grass like the carriage cushion,
pines like the carriage roof,
the wind is her skirt,
the waters, her pendants.
A carriage with oiled sides
awaits in the evening.
Cold azure candle
struggles to give light.
At the foot of West Mound
wind blows the rain.

translated by Stephen Owen

11 thoughts on “The Tomb of Little Su by Li He

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