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	  
	 
	

tr.by Lucy Chow Ho