English poetry

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Tz’u No. 3

Tz’u No. 3

To the tune “Red Lips”

Tired of swinging
I rise with a slender hand
Put right
My hair
The dew thick
On frail blossoms
Sweat seeping through
My thin robe
And seeing
My friend come
Stockings torn
Gold hairpins askew
I walk over
Lean against the door
Turn my head
Grasp the dark green plums
And smell them.

Poem Tz’u No. 3 - Li Ching Chao