The Last Days Of Autumn Poem by East Sea Fairy Xing Yi

By LIU-Yong Translated by East-sea Fairy

It's the time of the year
when early winter presses late autumn to quit.
The foliage sear
are as red and thin as a piece of red silk cut into many a bit.
Like one upon another golden grit
pile all over on the ground the petals fine,
which away from the chrysanthemum flowers have split.
Toward here the wild geese are flying in a line.
They must have taken back a letter to me from my dear at the borderline.

In the early morning air
rises a gust of wind cold and chilly.
Here and there
the petals blown off are drifting freely.
Flows with the wind the glossy green curtain pretty.
Deep in yearning and pining for her valued valentine,
she's attacked by a nip of freezing creeping chill unfriendly.
Bathing her cheeks in tears of the grief of parting, and steeped in wine,
with the makeup unwashed, she sits up till she sees the first ray of sunshine.