Poems On Loss

          by Li Shan Gyan

                  1

So hard to meet in freedom 

then so much harder to live apart

there’s no strength left in the east wind

gladioli can only wither

their leaves don't fall

just as a silk worm will spin all its silk

                                                 then die

              my tears run down

      while this candle burns 

into ashes

every morning in the mirror

fear of another white hair

every night while I write my poems

do you too feel the same chill?

our enchanted land is not so far away

shall I let this poem be my messenger

be a companion for you

                    2

She has come and gone

her words meant nothing

left no trace

moonlight shines on the watch tower

five empty echoes are rung by the bell

I tried to call her

to detain her

but she would not turn back

I tried to write to her

frenzied letters

but black ink barely marked fresh parchment

it was so dark

just half of a bronze mirror

depicting a jeweled phoenix

glowed in the candlelight

so silent

only her perfume

leant over from the curtained bed

a poet once went to Paradise

he journeyed 6 months

to live in enchantment

enthralled by goddesses

but she

you are ten thousand times further away

                     3

a gentle splatter of raindrops

falling on lily pads

a fine mist of rain

making leaves fall

perfume and incense seeped from her room

through a lock shaped like a golden toad 

puddles lay splashed near the well

gladiola leaves had fallen

traces of her gleamed on tigers

carved on its sides

there was once a great lady

who favored a youth 

secretly behind a screen

and another, a fairy queen

who gave her pillowcase to a poet

I wish I could stop loving her

please let me not love her

or every inch of my longing will burn

and become just so many inches 

of ash

                 4

as she embroidered a phoenix on a green hat

I could see double layers of silk 

she was using

                                coquettishly

she hid

but her moon shaped fan

could not conceal her beauty

horse’s hooves clattered

carriage wheels turned

words

               were lost

I waited for her in the dark

long after the candle had burnt out

now pomegranates have begun to blossom

still no word has come

I stand here by the river

my horse tethered by the willows

where to be with you

will the warm wind guide me?

                       *

Li Shan Gyan, T’ang Dynasty

Translated by David Sen and Dick Russell

              Copyright  2024