Copied this on the back of a tissue paper, after crying all day, talking with a friend about what happened.
To Tu Fu From Shantung
You ask how I spend my time–
I nestle against a treetrunk
and listen to autumn winds
in the pines all night and day.
Shantung wine can’t get me drunk.
The local poets bore me.
My thoughts remain with you,
like the Wen River, endlessly flowing.