To The Tune Of Bodhisattiva Aliens - Poem by Li Qingzhao
Soft breeses, mild sunshine,sring is still young.
The sudden change to light apparel
brightened my spirit.
But upon awakening from slumber, I felt the cilly air;
The plum flower withered in my hair.
Where can I call my native land?
Forget - I can not, except in wine when I drown my care.
Incense was lighted when I went to sleep;
Though the embers are now cold,
the warmth of wine still holds.
The cry of returning wild geese has stopped; evening clouds look azure.
Snow is falling outside the windows, smoke from the chimney rises straight upward.
Under the candle-light glistens the phoenix hairpin,
On which the man-shaped ornament is light.
The sounding horn announces the approach of daybreak;
Stars are driven back by the light of early dawn.
It is difficult to enjoy spring flowers.
The west wind is still too cold.
Comments about To The Tune Of Bodhisattiva Aliens by Li Qingzhao
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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