Bamboos
Facing northern winds, they sing
Like clustered lyrics in the sun;
Around them, an interlacing ring
Of peach, whose buds have just begun.
Down that path, across a saddened stream,
He teased a thinning beard, stroked his rhymes,
To cap metaphors fusing truth and dream,
Hoping yet to mend his bitter, broken times.
Words gentler than petals float-and-fall
From branching sky to insouciant pool.
Words pushed beyond sadness by the call
Of deep-chested border drums.
O happy fool,
Not hearing.
You set down robe and crown,
Preferring a beauty's flanks, and tears,
The grip of her thighs, the tension of her frown,
As barbarians pulled your kingdom by its ears.
Facing northern winds, the poems sigh
Among bamboos. The Court leaves town.
Fate inscribes her portents: a darkening sky
And lamentations wrapping the reign's renown.
More petals fall into the final hush,
As the poet dips his thinning brush.
Edwin Thumboo
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