Throwing off My Sadness
An autumn wind blows over the earth,
The grasses die,
Mount Hua becomes a sapphire shadow
In the chill of dusk,
Though I have reached my twentieth year,
I've missed my goal.
My whole heart sad and withered
As a dying orchid.
Clothes like the feathers of a flying guail,
Horse like a hound.
Where the road forks I beat my sword
With a brazen roar.
Dismounting at a tavern I shed
My autumn gown,
Wishing to pledge it for a jar
Of Yi-yang wine.
Deep in the jar I called on Heaven
No clouds rolled back,
The white day stretched a thousand leagues,
Cold and forlorn,
My host urged me to cultivate
Both body and soul,
Nor care at all if the vulgar crowd
Made mock of me.
Reviews
No reviews yet.