Fare Welling Hands

Fare Welling Hands


I saw the fare welling hands

They looked sickly ,

When my hand

touched her cold and long fingers

which were from the family of the wailing reed ,

It gripped an eternal grief in its fist

The pen's backbone broke,

And pain

Like the black drops of ink

dropped on our papery hearts.

I saw fare welling hands,

They looked sickly:

Stranger to love and benevolence,

They were the hand of age .

History has recorded our papery hearts

By the reed

and each part of the reed

Complains of the massnavi of our groans.

The lines in your hands

(these winding roads that are so intermingled)

Are familiar to my eyes.

Believe me

The lines in your hand

Are more familiar to me than my own lines....


O friend...

They buried us together in the grave

A thousand years ago,

And this is the friendship of centuries and centuries of


We saw the fare welling hands,

They looked sickly.

They were the hands of time ,

There were the hand of the millennium.