from Mourning for My Wife, Three Poems: 1 by Mei Yao-ch’en

We came of age, and were made man and wife.
Seventeen years have gone by since then.
I still have not tired of gazing at her face
but now she has left me forever.
My hair has nearly turned white,
Can this body hold out much longer?
When the end comes I’ll join her in the grave;
until my death, the tears flow on and on.

translated by Jonathan Chaves

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