In The Wintry Wind - Poem by Nhuan LeXuan
I am writing a poem in the wintry gale.
Where to send it to? There, can you guess?
That rosy-cheeked, the purple-scarf frail?
– No, buddy! It is about my heartfelt distress.
Cold wind blows in that place, this evening
– Homeland in swirl – constant is the rain.
With clayish ground old mom's feet cling;
Palm-leaf hat and coat by the bamboo chain.
Under the ragged thatched roof, in mire,
Smoke from humid fireplace makes her glum;
Back home, her man warms hands on the fire;
His wet coat drips from the bamboo column.
Then the lamp is lit! And the dinner served:
Always are pickles, sauce, same and again.
How life this evening is felt useless, unnerved;
Listening to the wind causes my heart to pain.
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You