Spring poem by Tom Sharp

A young girl serves me fresh spouts and I suddenly remember plum blossoms. Slender arms, pink cheeks, black hair— as inaccessible as the years that have passed. I can’t bear to face another cold journey. Instead, I call for paper to write a poem.

立春 by 杜甫 (Du Fu)

春日春盘细生菜，忽忆两京梅发时。 盘出高门行白玉，菜传纤手送青丝。 巫峡寒江那对眼，杜陵远客不胜悲。 此身未知归定处，呼儿觅纸一题诗。