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Xu Zhimo was everything you want in a modern poet: he was in love with being in love, treated women like crap under the guise of romantic free-spiritedness, was at times outrageously depressed, and he died tragically in a plane crash. HE ALSO SPENT TIME IN ENGLAND STUDYING AT CAMBRIDGE. 

<h4>Some language stuff</h4>
Unlike China's ancient poetic styles which are often hyper-condensed and stripped of grammatical guideposts, this modern poem spoils us with full-fledged sentences and recognizable grammar. 

I didn't do the English translation for this piece. It's well-known enough in English-speaking lit circles that there are lots of English versions out there, I chose my favorite, which I picked up <a href="https://eastasiastudent.net/china/mandarin/xu-zhimo-goodbye-cambridge/">here</a>, but I did update the translation a smidge where I thought it was not quite right.
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<h4>《再别康桥》</h4>
轻轻的我走了，
正如我轻轻的来；
我轻轻的招手，
作别西天的云彩。

那河畔的金柳，
是夕阳中的新娘；
波光里的艳影，
在我的心头荡漾。

软泥上的青荇，
油油的在水底招摇；
在康河的柔波里，
我甘心做一条水草！

那榆荫下的一潭，
不是清泉，是天上虹；
揉碎在浮藻间，
沉淀着彩虹似的梦。

寻梦？撑一支长篙，
向青草更青处漫溯；
满载一船星辉，
在星辉斑斓里放歌。

但我不能放歌，
悄悄是别离的笙箫；
夏虫也为我沉默，
沉默是今晚的康桥！

悄悄的我走了，
正如我悄悄的来；
我挥一挥衣袖，
不带走一片云彩。

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[hide-this-part morelink="Show English translation"]
<h4></h4>

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