Li Qingzhao


To the Tune of Song of Peace

	Year by year, in the snow,

	I have often gathered plum flowers,
	   intoxicated with their beauty.

	foundling them impudently

	I got my robe wet with their lucid tears.

	This year I have drifted to the corner
	   of the sea and the edge
	     of the horizon,

	My temples has turned grey.

	Judging by the gust of the evening wind,

	There's hardly a chance that I will be able
	   enjoy the plum blossoms. Lucy Chow Ho