In the Courtyard, Pear Blossoms Fall
In the courtyard, pear blossoms fade with yet another year;
Moonlight spills in silver across the silent stairs.
In dreamland, pipes and bamboo flutes recall old melodies
Awake, tears bloom crimson on powdered cheeks.
I whisper that old refrain—once more, then once again;
Night’s waterclocks choke, bidding memories depart the endless dark.
Sleepless I sit beneath the palace eaves;
Most tender of all—spring’s pale garden snow,
Falling each year upon the lonely court of those who part.
On rosy paper I wrote: if only first sight could endure.
This life—so vast—halts mere steps from heaven and earth.
Who remembers when pear blossoms drifted like snow?
My heart is no stone to be turned,
No woven mat to be rolled away—
A still gaze holds love’s unfathomed depth.
In the courtyard, blossoms fade with another passing year;
Moonlight pours across the cold and quiet stairs.
In dreams, music stirs the echoes of lost delight;
Awake, tears stain rouge-soft cheeks.
I breathe that ancient verse again, and yet again;
The dripping watch calls shadows from the endless night.
Sleepless, I watch the eaves grow pale with dawn;
Most gentle sorrow—spring’s white hush,
Blanketing year by year the garden of the parted.
On scented paper I wrote: if first sight stayed forever true.
This long, long life ends but an arm’s length from the stars.
Who remembers the season of pear-snow drifting?
My heart—unyielding, unmoving, untouched;
My soul—unrolled, unbroken, unworn.
Silent I gaze; love’s riddle remains without end.
Spring wanes; pear blossoms fall once more.