A Thousand Autumns

Zhang Xian

The cuckoo showers

Tears of adieu on fallen flowers.

Lovers of spring would pluck a sprig of fading red.

Light drizzle and strong breeze

Have greened mume trees.

All day long no one sees the willow-down

Like snow or flowers dead waft up and down.

Don’t pluck the lonely string,

Or of grief it will sing

The sky never grows old;

Love won’t turn cold.

Like a silken net is my heart;

I can’t untie its thousand knots nor set them apart.

The night will pass away;

The waning moon is frozen before the break of day.