Impromptu for Cicada

The tambourines that line the trees
deafen the unused ear.
They are but strikes of brush on drum,
or sand sifting through leaves.
Emeralds peek out from grainy wood
to harmonize and hum.
Here is one that breaks its mold
to start again anew.
The crimped brown lunch bag skin of old
gives way to azure wings.
At first, a doubtful old frog's croak,
and then, a tenor's ring.
Percussion and our voices strike,

oh, to sing before I die.

虞世南的《蟬》，
垂飲清露，流響出疏桐。
居高聲自遠，非是藉秋風。

駱賓王《詠蟬》：

李商隱《蟬》
本以高難飽，徒勞恨費聲。
五更疏欲斷，一樹碧無情。
薄宦梗猶泛，故園蕪已平。
煩君最相警，我亦舉家清。