373
nine poems for the early death of apricots

preface
the early death of apricots
like son’s still at a mother’s breast

petals fell like frost
I make these poems to remember

1
don’t touch the buds with a cold hand
pearls will be wrecked

sudden frost –
don’t harm the Spring
or the world will lose its shine

unheeding day is
and cruel night

buds not even opened scatter
not even a palm full of petals

2
I pick stars from the earth
now the branches are bare
the old man’s sons are gone

a wild duck without water
worse than crows stealing
other birds’ nests

a chick can sing with the wind
will fly when it knows
which way the wind blows

yes there are sighs
for wordless souls fled
but there’s no returning to life


3
tears fall
they go to the heartwood
then no flowers form at the shoot

as short Spring
as grief is deep

nothing will grow
from salt


4
the moon shone
once my sons had passed

now sons and moon
both belong to the sky

better dust on the ground
than this gnarled heart


5
does the soil suffer under my feet?
do the roots recoil?
how can the sky know I’m sincere?

thousands of buds
have fallen from twigs

Spring won’t enter the house of a stranger
haven’t you heard that said?


6

frost kills the newborn Spring
turns twigs to knives
the fallen buds
in frozen beauty
the eye led back to winter


7
tears for the still-born Spring
form frost

the world is frail – a bony hand
knocks on
the sky
won’t hear



8
flowers fail

a man’s broken yearning
all he has to clutch

what if the birds
left off singing

turned to dry brush
to fire


9

frost beats the bloom
fish play to the surface
the breeze an irregular groan

of the past
only this shadow left
day lost

I blame the shutters
and the dusk inside


10

it’s right for you to leave me
though I gave you clothes and food

I’ve heard your new master
whips you half to death

what if I am polite?
I grumble too much

my authority’s gone
better to be beaten

than listen
to my moans

374
mourning at Xia Mountain

1
mountain too steep
for the cranes to climb

tigers in the morning
cuckoos day and night

in the past so much laughter
with whom to cry now?

I weep for the mountain spirits
wind blows their moaning my way

a desperate wraith has hold of the moon
what emptiness – bone turns to ash

thunder over the waves here below
the river like arrows runs

no limit to caverns beneath the earth
in gorges wind, water, stone tussle

a monster roaming in these ridges
where is the rope to tether me here?


2
mist rises to heaven
and rain descends

just so
this boat appears
to have sunk
been resurrected
from the deep

stones and water
their clash like swords

the big waves are dragons
day and night wrestling

trees in blossom hide last year’s Spring
old autumns in the freezing wind

caves of the mountain
are full of dark speech

dark as the sky
or sorrows told

sound of the falls
rings round


3
Xia Mountain
with the sky

ten thousand ways
the Spring may flow

sun sets in fierce waves
where the river must go

a single drop flying
condenses to ether

now heaven’s possession
a thousand years

ah but high up
there’s no sun at noon

hungry beasts roam
their bones sticking out

gnarled roots grip the mountain
like coffins

in frosty trees the sad apes cry
their melodies are rare

but when you hear them
you know that you’re lost

this life as thin as silk
as rough as hemp

tears are all
that heaven holds

in spirits lost
the falling rain


4
wind pure as a chime
on Xia Mountain

stones in the water
fresh fish

waves down here
are heaven’s spent spittle

water as deep as a well
feeds the soul

but the guts are never full here
old rocks are angered

hear the water and stones
their quarrel unending

5
why is the hidden monster so sad?
only the mountain spirits can say

song of the mountain
not of human making

clash between water and stones
the breeze bears

hear rough breath
in the deep mountain pools