people adore immortality.
When the months return to this day of promise,
everyone finally hears ever and ever in its name.
Warm winds have ended, dew ice-cold.
Stars blaze crystaline skies.
And now swallows have taken their shadows south.
Arriving geese keep calling and calling
Wine eases worries, and chrysanthemums
Keep us from the ruins of old age,
But what if you live in a bramble hut,
Helplessly watching these turning seasons crumble -
What then?
My empty winejar shamed by a dusty cup,
This cold splendor of blossoms opens for itself alone.
I tighten my robe and sing to myself,
Idle, ovewhelmed by each memory.
So many joys for a short stay,
I'll take my time here,
It's whole, how can it be any less?
