“Endless Longing: Did Spring Come First?”
I
Did spring come first?
Or did sorrow come first?
Young orioles deliberately
call out in new-leaved groves.
Spiritless, she cradles her zither.
II
Did sorrow come first?
Or did spring come first?
Gay flowers, rioting butterfllies
and a sinuous east wind.
She picks one, but
the flowers understand.
—
Having a special love
for the gold blooms that come early,
I have transplanted their fragrance
to the innermost courtyard.
When all the other flowers
have been blown away,
They rise brilliant and proud
under the frosts of autumn.
[trans. Maureen Robertson]
