Poetry at Sangam

Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.

TO AN OAK TREE by Shu Ting

If I love you—
I will never be like a clinging trumpet creeper,
Flaunting myself on your tall branches;
If I love you—
I will never follow a love-sick bird,
Repeating the monotonous song for the green shade;
Nor like a fountain,
Sending refreshing solace all year round;
Nor like a perilous peak,
Adding to your height and setting off your majesty.
Not even the sunlight,
Not even the spring rain.
No, none of this is enough!
I must be a cottonwood near you.
Standing with you in the image of a tree.
Our roots entwined in the ground;
Our leaves touching in the clouds.
With each gust of wind
We greet each other
But nobody
Can understand our words.
You have your copper branches and iron trunk
Like knives, like swords, and like halberds
I have my red and fruitful flowers
Like heavy sighs
And like valiant torches.
We share cold waves, storms and thunderbolts.
We share mists, vapours and rainbows.
Seemingly separated forever,
Yet attached for life.
This is the greatness of love,
For constancy is found here in
Love—
Love not only your robust figure,
But also your firm stand,
And the ground beneath your feet.

 

 

← Shu Ting

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