In Mourning for His Dead Wife

Winter and Spring have come and gone
Once more Autumn overtakes
Summer She has returned to
The Hidden Springs And all the
World separates us forever.
Who will listen to my secrets
Now? Who will I live for now?
I try to do my job at Court,
And reluctantly go through
The motions of duty, and
Take up the tasks I had dropped
When I come home I can think
Only of her When I come
Into our room I expect to see her.
I catch her shadow on the
Screens and curtains Her letters
Are the most precious examples
Of calligraphy. Her perfume
Still haunts the bedroom. Her clothes
Still hang there in the closet
She is always alive in
My dreams I wake with a start
She vanishes And I
Am overwhelmed with sorrow
Two birds made a nest and then
There was only one. A pair
Of fishes were separated
And lost in the current.
The Autumn wind blows. The morning
Is misty, with dripping eaves.
All through the troubled night I was
Not able to forget in sleep
I hope the time will come when
I am calm enough to beat
On a pot like Zhuangzi did
In mourning for his dead wife.
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Author of original: 
P'an Y├╝eh
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