A CERTAIN BLEAK BEAUTY
1
Endless rains
I wake early before dawn.
The dreams I recall
Are of loss and confusion.
2
The bonfires burn blue and bitter.
The mantra of compassion rings hollow
When all harvests have failed.
3
News from home is slow to arrive:
The roads often impassable,
Slow and winding
Through the hills.
4
My bones are weary.
I turn restless, from side to side.
The flies circling the room
Slower and slower each day
Fail to find the open window.
5
Though we are far
from the borderlands
Everyone fears invasion.
6
A song from the past
I cannot quite remember,
Of the moon and a girl
And a river.
7
Wind from the mountains
Tastes of snow.
The grasses are lank
and yellowing.
8
There is a certain bleak beauty
In the dark night,
Filled only
with the echoing cries of foxes.
9
News from the capital
Is dreary and unconvincing:
Familiar, lazy formulas.
The treasuries are empty,
The halls smell stale of old food.
10
Only this small thin cat is content
Paws flicking in sleep,
Curled up warm.
A collection of fleeting images, reflecting the present, but echoing the laments of those border guards of Ancient China
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