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Bruce lee

Bruce Lee


I sit through the long night
In the high tower,
And listen to the autumn rain
Outside my window.

There is no sound of human life,
Save now and then
A belated traveler hastening by.

Through the dark heaven,
A wild goose wings his lonely flight.
In the chill gloom
A cricket calls
The water drips mournfully
From the t’ung trees;
And the blossoms
Flutter sadly
To the rain—soaked earth.

Sadness broods
Over the world.
I fear to walk in my garden,
Lest I see
A pair of butterflies
Disporting in the sun
Among the flowers.

Black clouds,
Fallen blossoms and pale moon,
The hurried flight of birds
The arrival of lonely autumn
The time for us to part.

The clouds above are floating across the sky
Swiftly, swiftly passing,
Or blending together.

Much has been said, yet we have not
Come to the end of our feelings.
Long must be this parting, and
Remember, remember that all
My thoughts have always been of you.

The good time will probably never come back again.
In a moment——our parting will be over.
When days are short and dull nights long

Read this poem I leave you, read it
When the silence of the world possesses you,
Or when you are fretted with disquiet.
Long must be this parting, and
Remember, remember that all
My thoughts have always been of you.

Alone I wander in silence
And in the sky the two escaped parakeets
Fall from fear of fishermen.

The two fish swim;
One white, one gold.
From the picket fence
A pink rose reaches out to the sun.
Among the flowers, two butterflies fly.
They might know where they want to go,
But they do not know how to get there.

Our togetherness is like a sweet dream
Too sweet, too bitter sweet,
Whose awakening should have been in Paradise.

And now like a dream you will vanish.
And only in dream can we chance to meet again.
That we may live our very life again,
As July, August and September.

Dear, do come to me in dreams, that
We may live our very life again
In the land of green.
Much has been said,
Yet I have not come to the end of my feelings.
Driven from my head, you enter my heart.
Remember that my thoughts have always been of you.

When, oh! When shall we walk again.
Hand held in hand
You and I?


I wish neither to possess,
Nor to be possessed.
I no longer covet paradise,
More important, I no longer fear hell.

The medicine for my suffering
I had within me from the very beginning,
But I did not take it.
My ailment came from within myself,
But I did not observe it
Until this moment.

Now I see that I will never find the light
Unless, like the candle, I am my own fuel,
Consuming myself.


I live in memory of a dream
Which has come and gone;
In solitude I sit on my boat
As it glides freely down the tranquil lake.

Across the blue sky, the swallows fly in couples;
On the still water, the Mandarin ducks swim, side by side.
Leaning on the oar I gaze at the water far away.
The sky far away, the loved one far away.

The sun goes down in flame on the far horizon,
And soon the sunset is rushing ti its height through
Every possible phase of violence and splendor.
The setting of the sun is supposedly a word of peace,
But an evening like the soft and invisible
Bonds of affection only adds distress to my heart.

Over the lake the round moon rises bright
And floods the horizon with her silver light.
I look into the water; it is as clear as the night.

When the clouds float past the moon,
I see them floating in the lake,
And I feel as though I were rowing in the sky.
Suddenly I thought of you—mirrored in my heart.

The lake sleeps in peace,
Not the faintest murmur of waves can be heard.
Lying back on the boat,
I try to conjure up the land of dream where I may seek for you.
But, alas, no dreams come.
Only a moving point of fire in the dark,
The distant light of a passing boat.

The surroundings utter no sound.
Time suddenly ceases.
Gently you fall into my arms.

The years of a lifetime never reach a hundred,
Yet they contain a thousand years’ sorrow.
When days are short and the dull night long,
Why not take a walk alone in the moonlight?

The bright moon, again, how white it shines,
Shines down on my lonely bed.
For a long time I have stayed in bed with my thoughts,
Racked by sorrow I toss and cannot sleep.
Picking up my clothes, I wander up and down.
The stars and planets are all grown dim in the sky,
Facing the moon, I stand hesitating, alone.
To whom can I tell my sad thought?

The good time will probably never come back again.
In a moment, our parting will be over.
Anxiously, I stopped the car by the roadside,
Hesitating, we hold hands.

The clouds above are floating across the sky,
Swiftly, swiftly passing, or blending together.
Petals fall quietly, birds call in the hills.
From now onwards, long must be our parting,
So let us stop once more for a while.

Like mountain streams, we part and meet again.
Everything is still,
Except the occasional lonely bark of a dog.

The dying sun lies sadly in the far horizon.
The autumn wind blows mercilessly;
The yellow leaves fall.
From the mountain peak,
Two streams parted unwillingly,

One to the West, one to the East.
The sun will rise again in the morning.
The leaves will be green again in spring.
But must we be like the mountain stream,
Never to meet again?

The wind is in high frolic with the rain.
Outside the garden a little yellow leaf
Clinging desparately to its mother branch

I pick up the leaf
And put it in the book,
Giving it a home.

Young man,
Seize every minute
Of your time.

Thedays fly by;
Ere long you too
Will grow old.

If you believe me not,
See there, in the courtyard,
How the frost
Glitters white and cold and cruel
On the grass that once was green.

Do you not see
That you and I
Are as the branches
Of one tree?

With your rejoicing,
Comes my laughter;
With your sadness
Start my tears.

Could life be otherwise
With you and me?

Love is like a friendship caught on fire.
In the beginning a flame,
Very pretty, often hot and fierce
But still and only light and flickering.

As love grows older, our hearts mature
And our love becomes as coals,
Deep-burning and unquenchable.

For a moment
The surrounding utters no sound.
Time ceases.
The paradise of dreams come true.