Li Qingzhao


To the Tune of Wu Ling Spring

	Wind ceased, the dust is scented
	   with the fallen flowers.
	Though day is getting late, I am too weary
	   to attend my hair.
	Things remain as ever, yet he is here no more,
	   and all is finished.
	Fain would I speak, but tears flow first.
	They say that at the Twin Brooks*
	   spring is still fair.
	I, too, wish to row a boat there.
	But I am afraid that the little skiff
	   on the Twin Brooks
	Could not bear the heavy load of my grief.               
	* Located in Zhejiang Province Lucy Chow Ho