Li Ching Chao
Tz'U No. 9 (Weary) - Poem by Li Ching Chao
To the tune of "Rinsing Silk Stream"
Saddened by the dying spring, I am too weary
to rearrange my hair.
Plum flowers, newly fallen, drift about the courtyard
in the evening wind.
The moon looks pale and light clouds float
to and fro.
Incense lies idle in the jade duck-shaped burner.
The cherry-red bed-curtain is drawn close,
concealing its tassels.
Can Tung-Hsi's horn still ward off the cold?
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You