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From Li Po and Tu Fu Poems – translated and with an introduction by Arthur Cooper [Penguin classics]

A Letter to his two small children whilst staying in Eastern Lu, at Wen Yang Village under Turtle Mountain

Here in Wu Land the mulberry leaves are green,
Silkworms in Wu have now had three sleeps.

My family, left in Eastern Lu.
Oh, to sow now Turtle –shaded fields
And do the Spring things in which I never join.
Sailing the Yangtse, always on my own.

Let the South Wind blow you my heart,
Fly it and land it in the Tavern court
Where, to the East, there are the sprays and leaves
Of a peach tree, swept by blue mist.

This is the tree I planted
When I left you, nearly three years past;
A peach tree now, level with the eaves.
And I, sailing, cannot return home.

My pretty daughter. P’ing-yang is your name,
breaking off blossoms, there beside my tree,
breaking blossoms.  You cannot see me
And your tears flow like a running stream.

And my little  son.  Po-ch’in you are called
You have grown to reach your big sister’s shoulder.
You too come there underneath my peach
Oh, to hold you and caress you.  My child.

I dreamt like this until my wits went wild
By such yearning daily I burned within;
And so I tore some silk, to write this distant missive
To you from me, living in Wen Yang.