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While Ill, by Hu Shenrong,
My soul feels lost, uprooted.
I float, as in a dream.
When i walk, leaning for support, I fear the ground will give way.
Lying back down, my head feels empty.
When I open my eyes, everything turns misty.
When I hear a noise, it sounds like wind rushing.
How can I bear the rain beneath my window?
Solitary and alone, a single red lamp glows.
This was written by an 18th century Chinese woman poet. Found in the book, Precious Records By Susan Mann, which I'm only a third of the way through but am really enjoying. I've definitely had days and nights like that!
My soul feels lost, uprooted.
I float, as in a dream.
When i walk, leaning for support, I fear the ground will give way.
Lying back down, my head feels empty.
When I open my eyes, everything turns misty.
When I hear a noise, it sounds like wind rushing.
How can I bear the rain beneath my window?
Solitary and alone, a single red lamp glows.
This was written by an 18th century Chinese woman poet. Found in the book, Precious Records By Susan Mann, which I'm only a third of the way through but am really enjoying. I've definitely had days and nights like that!