Bound Home to Mount Sung
The limpid river, past its bushes
Running slowly as my chariot,
Becomes a fellow voyager
Returning home with the evening birds.
A ruined city-wall overtops an old ferry,
Autumn sunset floods the peaks.
… Far away, beside Mount Sung,
I shall close my door and be at peace.
Running slowly as my chariot,
Becomes a fellow voyager
Returning home with the evening birds.
A ruined city-wall overtops an old ferry,
Autumn sunset floods the peaks.
… Far away, beside Mount Sung,
I shall close my door and be at peace.
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