Classic Poem

All around my house
flowers are gaily blooming;
yet though I look at them
there is no lifting in my heart.
Ah, my beloved —
If she were here alive today,
like ducks in the water
we two would be side by side;
we would pick blossoms
and show them to each other.
But our locust-husk
bodies are but borrowed flesh:
it melts away
and vanishes like dew or frost.
To the foot-weary
mountain paths she made her way,
and like the setting sun
hid herself behind the hills.
When I think of this
my breast is fraught with pain,
but I cannot speak,
I cannot find a name for it.
Since ours is a world
that will leave no trace behind,
there is nothing I can do.

When there would be times
more than enough for such a thing,
why did my darling
bring me this grief by her going,
leaving our greenling behind?

If I had but known
the road my love would take away,
before she could have gone
I would have put a barrier
across to hold her back.

Flowers are in bloom
in the garden that she knew,
and time goes by;
but still there has been no drying
of the tears I shed for her.