Poems by Aden Lee and Padma, Skylark Press Studio Song of a Boat-Girl | Page 2

Song of a Boat-Girl
What evening is this, to flow down the river Qian,
To row my boat through the pale, formless mists?
What blesséd day is this, that I may wend
My boat, and ferry my belovéd prince?
Does he not notice me, a poor boat-girl?
With stolen glances by the river’s flow,
My cheek with rosy bashfulness unfurls.
I gently row–how may my love he ever know?
You stir my aching heart when, dear sire,
You gaze upon the mountains tenderly.
Do you not see your close admirer,
In turn, gaze upon you so longingly?
In soft sighs and tears, I have sung so near,
Yet, you do not hear.
Yet, you do not hear.

R

© Skylark Press Studio 2016

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