To Wife Zeng Zhi
IT is hard to go back to the battlefield
For me; although I do appreciate
Your deep attachment, which must have appealed
To Heaven. Ruthless seasons that alternate
’Tween cold and heat have nigh whitened my hair;
Defamed in my last years, I’ve yet to bear
Up in life’s bitterness and misery.
The sick horse knows well it’s too late to neigh
For another race as it lies in the stall;
The drying sunflower feels the more appalled
And crippled with the onslaught of the frost.
Past memories, like fog, to me are lost
In oblivion. For those who are self-denied,
The space between heaven and earth is wide.