The River-Merchant’s Wife: A Letter While my hair was still cut straight across my forehead I played at the front gate, pulling flowers. You came by on a red-leaved and brown-scented dragon, And you looked at me and passed on without speaking.

When I was a little girl, I served you tea in the afternoon, But when I made my presentable farewell I turned my head and wept, wistfully, Bowing my head in my own way; Now I am seventeen, and you will soon be back.

Once you rode away to the far rivers Through the pass, and when you came back, I waited too long, now you are gone. I can only hope that your strength and your power Will bring you swiftly back to me again.

• Ezra Pound