Poetry

Matching poem for my new neighbour to the west, inviting him over for wine

Translated by: 
Justin Hill

your poem arrives, unworn words

despite a hundred recitations

 

new love, in each line –

pure as gold

 

Westering

my mind climbs the fence

 

too much long-distance gazing,

my heart might turn to stone

 

the River of Stars divides lovers

I look up and sigh

 

dreams of the southlands have passed,

the zither sits unplayed

 

only longing for home

grows in winter soils

 

cold nights, good wine –

a waste to pour for one

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