Dedication To The Son I Lost -- The Frost a poem by Tzu-yeh (translated by Bruce Lee)
Young man,
Seize every minute
Of your time.
The days fly by;
Ere long you too
Will grow old.
If you believe me not
See there, in the courtyard,
How the frost
Glitters white in the cold and cruel
On the grass that once was green.
Do you not see
That you and I
Are as the branches
Of one tree?
With your rejoicing,
Comes my laughter,
With your sadness
Start my tears.
Love,
Could life be otherwise
With you and me?
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