Opening my eyes
On a cozy spring morning,
Woke up so late,
The sunlight is already high above
Every corner filling with the sounds
Of birds singing outside cheerfully.
In my half-woken dream
The wind blowing,
The rain drops spattering down
On roofs. On petals.
How many flowers have been
Blown down and smashed by the ruthless rain?
Who would be concerned about that?
translation: Peng Qiu Lin [ May 2009 ]
Another beautiful translation by Qiu Lin.
The theme of this poem is very meaningful to me. Good times are so wonderful, they make us forgetful.
Life is full of sorrow. All our happiness happens against a background of sorrow. The human spirit is in a continuous battle against despair. All our eras of prosperity have been preceded by eras or suffering or war. Happy times make us forget the sadness that came before: the loved ones who aren’t with us, who died: so many of them.
Perhaps that forgetfulness is a good thing. How could we ever enjoy a lovely Spring morning if we mourned for every flower smashed by the rain?