"qian" poems
In a happy reign there should be no hermits;
The wise and able should consult together....
So you, a man of the eastern mountains,
Gave up your life of picking herbs
And came all the way to the Gate of Gold --
But you found your devotion unavailing.
...To spend the Day of No Fire on one of the southern rivers,
You have mended your spring clothes here in these northern cities.
I pour you the farewell wine as you set out from the capital --
Soon I shall be left behind here by my bosomfriend.
In your sail-boat of sweet cinnamon-wood
You will float again toward your own thatch door,
Led along by distant trees
To a sunset shining on a far-away town.
...What though your purpose happened to fail,
Doubt not that some of us can hear high music.
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Every night in my room
Door closed
Shades drawn
Darkness reigns the night
Darkness swallows the room
Covered in total darkness
I can’t see anything
I am blinded
Every noise frightens me
But when the morning comes
Light comes with a broom and sweeps darkness away
I pull the shades and light shoots in like a rocket
And fills the place
Like a balloon of light
Encasing the room
Finally!
In light.
During the day
Darkness and light battle
Light pushes darkness
Darkness shoves light back
Shadows work for dark
Following me everywhere
But when i come up here to read
And turn on the bulb
Light laughs in triumph
As darkness slides away
Into the corners
Under the bed
But when I leave the room
Darkness crawls out again
Resuming the battle
Until dark. -Emma Qian
Mar 23, 2018
Mar 23, 2018 at 2:03 PM UTC