Lamenting Noble Scholar Chu

This autumn day a noble man has died;
in delicate frost, the orchid withers.
A flock of geese possess the emerald pond;
the crane's shadow is alone on the terrace.
He must have ridden the chill wind out;
I think it's him, returning in thick fog.
Cedars and pines at evening sigh,
moved by what has passed, they hold
a lingering grief.
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Ni Tsan
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