I sit on a white wood box
Smeared with the black name
Of a seller of white sugar.
The little brown table is so dirty
That if I had food
I do not think I could eat.
How can I promise violets drunken in wine
For your amusement,
How can I powder your blue cotton dress
With splinters of emerald,
How can I sing you songs of the amber pear,
Or pour for the finger-tips of your white fingers
Mingled scents in a rose agate bowl?
From the Chinese of J. Wing (nineteenth century).
Song Writer Paid With Air
Edward Powys Mathers (as Translator)
(1)
Poem topics: food, rose, wing, blue, brown, finger, dirty, sugar, century, promise, black, amber, dress, powder, I love you, I miss you, white, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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About Song Writer Paid With Air
Song Writer Paid With Air is a poem by Edward Powys Mathers (as Translator). This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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