what kind of poet would i be if
i didn't pine for love?
i want to bare my heart to the moon
in a puddle of moonsilver; huddle
in my nest of need
as love floods my inner marshes.

your absence changes nothing.

the night opens to receive
the ghostly lightflakes of the moon,
open, as my mind is open.
the moist night air brings back
to my all-remembering heart, your ghost,
borne on a wheel of wind.

somewhere, your heart must love me,
must drag at secret moorings;
must remember me, miss me;
must loiter at the Jade Palace Portal.

only look but through my murky heart
to a love that is crystal clear
and watch our separation
like a brush-stroke disappear--

the peachtree in the poem is still here, unflinching.

even the fountain's falling blade
hangs in the air unbroken, and says "Wait!"
while Li Po, brought drunk to court, takes up his
brush and washes his face
among the lilies, then rewrites the song
of Lady Flying Swallow
into a poem that will go on waiting for you
for another one thousand two hundred years

The white clouds and blue sky are like her clothes,

The delicate peonies are like her face.

Spring breeze stroking the fence for view,

The flowers are fully blooming with dew.

If it is not the fairy Mountain of Jades,

It must be the Jasper Platform on skies

Where god lovers meet under the moonlight.

            *          *          *

Fragrance comes from a branch of red brightness

The fairy lover runs to embrace the long-lost king.

Who could be the match in the Han palace

of The lovely Flying Swallow in a new dress?

~Li Po