أفكار باردة

أفكار باردة

Cool Reflections

Li Shangyin

The guest departs, the waves level with the railing;

The cicadas fall still, dew heavy on every branch.

Deep thoughts arise at this season;

I lean on my staff and linger, while the hours slip by.

The Dipper turns, and spring is far away;

At Nanling, the messenger tarries.

At the edge of the world, I count my dreams again and again,

Fearing I may have been mistaken—that someone new has entered your heart.