Po Chu-I (China)
When I was almost forty
I had a daughter whose name was Golden Bells.
Now it is just a year since she was born;
She is learning to sit and cannot yet talk.
Ashamed—to find that I have not a sage’s heart:
I cannot resist vulgar thoughts and feelings.
Henceforward I am tied to things outside myself:
My only reward—the pleasure I am getting now.
If I am spared the grief of her dying young,
Then I shall have the trouble of getting her married.
My plan for retiring and going back to the hills
Must now be postponed for fifteen years!
Poet Other Poems
- A Forsaken Garden
- A Lament for my Son Ts’ui
- Autumn Cold
- Drunk Again
- Golden Bells
- Kept Waiting
- Lazy Man's Song
- Night on the West River
- On Being Stricken with Paralysis
- Planting a Lichi Tree
- Remembering Golden Bells
- Staying at Bamboo Lodge
- The Almond Blossoms of Chao Village
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