Poem 56-A series of poems inspired by the translation by Mr B Sugarman of a piece of song poetry by Li Qingzhao- each poem relates to a line of the translation.

When the warmth suddenly turns to cold

We loved
We definitely loved
One another
Our time
And now when the
Heat is tepid
What can we do except
Continue with hope
Our fingers and souls might
Regain their colour
As we fight this impending
Winter

We knew each other once

One time is sufficient
All that is needed
All that could be wanted
That day
That night
That hour
Was all you could provide
And now I sit
Watching the traffic and the time
Pass as I store our moments
To memory
As each minute
Becomes an hour
Each month becomes as year
Since I felt your
Hand in mine
And since I watched
You insert your ticket
In to the turnstile
And walked out of my consciousness

Who can pick them now?

He loves me he loves
Me not
The pile of stalks and petals
Grows as I swing my
Legs, to short to touch the
Floor, under my chair
As I play the game of
A child and I grow older
The remnants of the flowers
Turns to mulch
Composting our joint love
Until the next time
I grasp the stem labeled with
Your name

How will nightfall ever come?

Time has stopped
In limbo I wait for
Creation
For light and shade
For taste to return to my
Mouth and for sensation
To return to my nerve endings
You have paused my world
And the sun has failed
To complete its task
The setting is all that can
Offer hope
And no sinking, except that
Of my tear in the never ending
Stream, occurs
And I watch your life on
Fast forward, too rapid to
Gain entry in my state
Of paralysis

At times like this how can sorrow express it all?

Enough, enough now
My frail body cannot be
Inflicted with these feelings
Any more. No word can
Describe, no sentence can
Portray, No chapter can
Fully embody the melancholic song
In the back of my brain

At times like this how could sorrow possibly express it all?