on the river

nature needs for this small part

of the world

to move quickly past spring

into summer

in some places

the air

was soft

with the perfumed songs of trees

dreaming their way

through an afternoon

many of those blooms

have now withered

and faded

frederick carl frieseke on the river

each piece of flying blossom leaves spring the less,

i grieve as myriad points float in the wind.

i watch the last ones move before my eyes,

and cannot have enough wine pass my lips.

from "winding river" du fu