Fallen Blossoms

The guests are gone from the pavilion high,

In the small garden flowers are whirling around.

Along the winding path the petals lie;

To greet the setting sun, they drift up from the ground.

Heartbroken, I cannot bear to sweep them away;

From my eyes, spring soon disappears.

I pine with passing, heart’s desire lost for aye;

Nothing is left but a robe stained with tears.

-Li Shang-Yin

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