The chrysanthemum is vexed by the mist;
The orchid weeps in the dew.
Behind the gauze curtain,the air is cool.
A pair f swallows flies away.
Knowing not the bitter taste of separation,
Then slanting moonlight lingers
Till down at the vermilion door.
Last night the west wind
Withered the green trees.
Alone I climbed the high pavilion,
Gazing at the distant road
Vanishing into the horizon.
I long to send you a letter
But I have no colored paper.
Oh where,past the endless
Mountains and rivers,are you?
No comments:
Post a Comment