Lit-zine
JU
A DAY OF MOURNING
(After LI CHING CHAO)
George Freek
A SLEEPLESS NIGHT
(After LU YU)
I IGNORE MY DOCTOR’S ADVICE
(After MEI YAO CHEN)
bio:
George Freek is a poet/playwright living in Illinois.
His poetry has recently appeared in 'The Missing Slate'; 'Spank the Carp';
'The Stillwater Review'; 'The Lake'; 'The New Plains Review'; 'Samizdat
Literary Journal'; 'Danse Macabre'; and 'The Tower Journal'.
His plays are published by Playscripts, Inc.; Lazy Bee Scripts; and Off The Wall
Plays.
The above poems are original but influnced by the particular poets named above, they are from the Sung Dynasty (12th
Century).
"I admire them for their straigtforward themes and the
directiness of their language. They told you exactly what they were
thinking."
The day has now passed
As the leaves will fall
from the maple trees.
Black clouds speak of dismay.
But tomorrow, with the rain,
flowers will grow again.
Birds will sing the songs
which only they know.
My neighbors will work.
They must make money,
as bees must seek honey.
But if I look to the sky
and pray for a rainbow,
I’ll look in vain.
I think there won’t be any.
In May clouds disappear
like magic tricks.
New flowers grow,
and reach toward the sun.
They do what they must,
until they become dust.
Clouds become rain,
then rain turns to snow.
It’s the nature of things.
It’s one thing I know.
But I’ve lost my way.
I walk through the woods,
and search for a path.
But I’m not really
searching. I’ve
now grown too old.
There’s nowhere to go.
When the sun descends,
the memory of dead friends
often overwhelms me.
In this melancholy mood
I become sentimental.
A carpet of green grass
stretches toward the sky.
But it’s trampled under the feet
of indifferent passers-by.
The afternoon wine wears off.
At seventy-three it’s a way
to get through another day.
Spring will soon end.
It will come once again.
But what is that to me?
At twenty one I thought
much more of it,
than I do at seventy three.