Boudoir Lament by Yü Hsüan-chi

With a handful of weeds I weep in the slanting sun
To hear a neighbor’s husband coming home.

When you left, the first southern swans were flying north.
This morning northern geese go south.

Spring comes, fall goes, love stays.
Fall goes, spring comes, messages are rare.

My scarlet door is closed, he doesn’t knock;
Only the sound of washboards through silk curtains.

translated by Geoffrey Waters

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.