A poem for Monday
It was a busy weekend. Fraught with family drama and another playoff defeat, balanced out by some meaningful conversations and reconnecting with an old friend. Plus, I got my hair did (this has become essentially an annual event).
In honor of this groggy Monday, some lines for you from Ho Xuan Hu’o’ng:
In the dead of night, nightwatcher’s drums resound
I awake and find myself lonely in the vast world
After many an inebriating farewell cup, I come to my senses
The slanting moon on the wax is shaped like a crescent
The ground is overgrown with tufts of moss
On the horizon, cliffs rise up to the sky
I can no longer endure the flight of spring time
Shall my love be requited?