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by Clara Hsu
-A translation of Xu Zhimo's poem, see below.
I leave softly
as I come,
quietly wave
farewell to the clouds. By the river, the golden willow
is the bride of sunset.
Her reflection undulates,
sways in my heart. Moss on soft mud
washes gleaming on the riverbed.
Let me be a weed
in the gentle river Cam. The pond glistens under the shade
it is not a cascade,
but a rainbow
broken up among the rushes,
immersed in illusory dreams. Finding dreams? Take a long pole,
steer towards the greenest grass.
Fill the boat with starlight,
give song in the midst of shimmer. But I have no song.
Silence is the wind of parting.
Crickets are keeping still,
tonight, the river hushed. I leave softly
as I come,
dusting the sleeves,
not taking a piece of cloud.
* * * 
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