the tea’s got cold
the green tea is elegant
as ever as it is fragrant
a gift from you, now a reminiscence
of whatever is left of you ever since
your cup of tea had got cold
as the old Chinese saying told
when one is gone
one’s tea is done
you are not there amid the weeping willows
they have not been weeping for you for years
shepherd’s purse is early to come out abloom
pregnant of last winter, not because of you
hearth and home, you were no son of earth
riding on horse of spirits, you died of dearth
once you asked, if I would cry
if the time came that you die
I said why, hell, why should I
If death comes as a relief
It is no time for vain grief