Florence Ayscough and Amy Lowell, trans.

From “Chinese Written Wall Pictures”

Liu Shih-an—Eighteenth Century

HE is going to the T’ung T’ing lake,

My friend whom I have loved so many years.

The spring wind startles the willows

And they break into pale leaf.

I go with my friend

As far as the river-bank.

He is gone—

And my mind is filled and overflowing

With the things I did not say.

Again the white water-flower

Is ripe for plucking.

The green pointed swords of the iris

Splinter the brown earth.

To the south of the river

Are many cinnamon trees.

I gather branches of them to give to my friend

At his return.