Thoughts Of Tu Fu And The End Of The Line Poem by Scott Underwood

Thoughts of Tu Fu and the End of the Line

Here in the city
The onshore winds have begun to blow with Winter's frigidity.
Are there any poems in that book of yours that will give me solace?
The Summer is coming;
The Fall will surely follow;
Yet Spring has not even shown her blushing cheeks.

The Ghosts disdain the happy life.
Perhaps you can ask Li Po,
Before he drinks my wine:
Why is that bed so cold?