Poem by Chian chen tzu

Ten years living and dead have drawn apart
I do nothing to remember
But I cannot forget
Your lonely grave a thousand miles away …
Nowhere can I talk of my sorrow --
Even if we met, how would you know me
My face full of dust
My hair like snow?

In the dark of night, a dream:  suddenly, I am home
You by the window
Doing your hair
I look at you and cannot speak
Your face is streaked by endless tears
Year after year must they break my heart
These moonlit nights?
That low pine grave?

NOTE:  My father could have written this about my mother who died at age 50 and left my father to grieve until he died at 89.  Sculpture can be found in Les Tuileries, Paris, Ile de France, France.