Li Qingzhao

To The Tune Of Rinsing Silk Stream - Poem by Li Qingzhao

Let not the deep cup be filled
with rich, amber-colored wine;
My mind was eased of sorrow
even before I become intoxicated.
Distant bells have already echoed
in the evening breeze.
My dream is broken
as the scent of incense vanishes.
Too small, the hairpin of the gold
of warding-of-cold
loosens its hold of my tresses.
I awake to find myself blankly facing
the read flickering glow
of the candle

Comments about To The Tune Of Rinsing Silk Stream by Li Qingzhao

There is no comment submitted by members..

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, August 15, 2012

[Report Error]