Rounds With Li Bai In The Tavern Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

SAME OLD TIMES FRIEND







The portents are troubling
Armies of the poor march
Towers are raised in defence
Silent spring to empty harvest

Quiet ashes, grey embers
The phoenix chicks are gone
Their first songs are mute
Presaging interesting times






The pebble strikes
The bamboo thicket
Somewhere a z'tick
Nicks the sapling lath

Early summer
The lilies have passed
The flax is unfolding
Hatchlings and butterflies






Sinking his goods
Into the pond
The old merchant
Found a mirror

So much sadness
In the ten thousand things
Gaining so much
We have lost everything






Falling off a boat
Into the Yangtse
Taken by the river
Embracing the moon

Toppling into the water
Did you catch the moon?
Now the surface is still
The moonbeams still swarm