Good, the next poem.
Kneel down. Let’s look at your hair.
How long could you lie
moss hair, bird’s nest…
Such sins, such sins…
Have some dresses made with it.
She was in great pain.
You may get hurt.
I thought so when I first saw you.
What is that small room for up above?
My mother wants me. I must go.
Even her laughter sounds like music.
I can smell her miles away.
My father was in the tea business.
Sorry, I just keep talking.
Lighted lanterns, foot massages.
and a scorpion’s heart.
Save such wishes for your father.
You’ll have another son.
Locked in a golden cage I pine away.
Lush are the mountain flowers
They were all crying. It was very sad.
crows cry under the frosty sky.
I want you to cut my hair.
They said she died calling your name.
It’s better dead than alive and suffering.
I must cut my hair.
I had it burnt.