Posted by: W. E. Poplaski | May 6, 2009

POEM OF THE DAY: Tz’u 10 (Exile)

by Li Qingzhao (1084 – 1151).


Tz’u No. 10 (Exile)


Soft breezes, mild sunshine,

  spring is still young.

The sudden change of the light

  brightened my spirit.


But upon awakening from slumber,                               5

  I felt the chill air;

The plum flower withered in my hair.


Where can I call my native land?

Forget – I cannot, except in wine

  when I drown my care.                                                    10


Incense was lighted when I went to sleep;

Though the embers are now cold,

  the warmth of wine still burns on.



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