In the land of Wu the mulberry leaves are green, <br />And thrice the silkworms have gone to sleep. <br />In East Luh where my family stay, <br />I wonder who is sowing those fields of ours. <br />I cannot be back in time for the spring doings, <br />Yet I can help nothing, traveling on the river. <br />The south wind blowing wafts my homesick spirit <br />And carries it up to the front of our familiar tavern. <br />There I see a peach tree on the east side of the house <br />With thick leaves and branches waving in the blue mist. <br />It is the tree I planted before my parting three years ago. <br />The peach tree has grown now as tall as the tavern roof, <br />While I have wandered about without returning. <br />Ping-yang, my pretty daughter, I see you stand <br />By the peach tree and pluck a flowering branch. <br />You pluck the flowers, but I am not there <br />How your tears flow like a stream of water! <br />My little son, Po-chin, grown up to your sister's shoulders, <br />You come out with her under the peach tree, <br />But who is there to pat you on the back? <br />When I think of these things, my senses fail, <br />And a sharp pain cuts my heart every day. <br />Now I tear off a piece of white silk to write this letter, <br />And send it to you with my love a long way up the river.<br /><br />Li Po<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-his-two-children/
