Song of the Riverside (My Hair Had Just Covered My Forehead) (Li Bai, Song of the Riverside)

My hair was just covering my forehead when I picked flowers, playing by the front gate. You came riding on a bamboo horse, running around the well curb, tossing green plums. We both lived in Changgan Village, both young and innocent, without a trace of suspicion. At fourteen I became your wife, too shy to ever show a smile. I always kept my head lowered, facing the dark wall; though you called me a thousand times, I never once turned back. At fifteen I began to relax my brows, willing to be with you like dust and clay, never to be parted. I always cherished the faith of holding fast like Weisheng, and why would I ever need to climb the Tower of Longing? At sixteen you went far away, to the Yanyu Duijian in Qutang Gorge. In the fifth month, the river’s rapids cannot be touched; the mournful cries of apes echo to the sky. By the front gate, the footprints you left behind have all grown over with moss, one by one. The moss is thick and cannot be swept away; leaves fall, and the autumn wind comes too soon. In the eighth month, butterflies come, flying in pairs among the grasses of the western garden. Seeing this stirs grief in my heart, and I sit sadly as my rosy youth fades. When will you return from Sanba? Please send a letter home ahead of time. I will welcome you, not fearing the distance, even if I must go all the way to Changfengsha.