Li Ching Chao
Tz'u No. 11
To the tune of "Lamentation"
It was far into the night when, intoxicated,
I took off my ornaments;
The plum flower withered in my hair.
Recovered from tipsiness,
the lingering smell of wine
broke my fond dream
before my dreaming soul could find
my way home.
All is quiet.
The moon lingers,
And the emerald screen hangs low.
I caress the withered flower,
Fondle the fragrant petals,
Trying to bring back the lost time.
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Comments about this poem (Tz'u No. 11 by Li Ching Chao )
- Las Mariposas (the Butterflies), John F. McCullagh
- Hindsight coloured, Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
- Practise dispassion., Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
- Reichsbank Gold, Paul Hartal
- Ferguson Grand Jury, Is It Poetry
- The lost bliss, Rm.Shanmugam Chettiar.
- Sonnet: Christmas,2014(Advance Greetings), Dr John Celes
- Thread of Communication, Tirupathi Chandrupatla
- Harold Shipman's Crime, Jacob Mikael Matuszczak
- Thank You KP, Michael McParland
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