| Harriet Monroe, ed. (1860–1936). The New Poetry: An Anthology. 1917. |
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| 298. The River-Merchant’s Wife: A Letter |
| | | By Ezra Pound |
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| WHILE my hair was still cut straight across my forehead | |
| I played about the front gate, pulling flowers. | |
| You came by on bamboo stilts, playing horse; | |
| You walked about my seat, playing with blue plums. | |
| And we went on living in the village of Chokan: | 5 |
| Two small people, without dislike or suspicion. | |
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| At fourteen I married My Lord you. | |
| I never laughed, being bashful. | |
| Lowering my head, I looked at the wall. | |
| Called to, a thousand times, I never looked back. | 10 |
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| At fifteen I stopped scowling, | |
| I desired my dust to be mingled with yours | |
| Forever and forever, and forever. | |
| Why should I climb the look-out? | |
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| At sixteen you departed, | 15 |
| You went into far Ku-to-Yen, by the river of swirling eddies, | |
| And you have been gone five months. | |
| The monkeys make sorrowful noise overhead. | |
| You dragged your feet when you went out. | |
| By the gate now, the moss is grown, the different mosses, | 20 |
| Too deep to clear them away! | |
| The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind. | |
| The paired butterflies are already yellow with August | |
| Over the grass in the west garden— | |
| They hurt me. | 25 |
| I grow older. | |
| If you are coming down through the narrows of the river, | |
| Please let me know beforehand, | |
And I will come out to meet you, As far as Cho-fu-Sa.
From the Chinese of Li Po. | |
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