Mooring at Night at the River Mouth, I Heard a Flute—Sent to My Elder Brother Hsi-ch'iao
Cloud and water, lonely, desolate:
where now is the flute's voice coming from?
Sighing, sighing—full of autumn thoughts;
unawares come feelings of separation.
Chilly moonlight on water by the tower;
west wind in the city on the river.
What need now to hear the Wu-ch'i Song
with its bitter resentment at southern journeys?
where now is the flute's voice coming from?
Sighing, sighing—full of autumn thoughts;
unawares come feelings of separation.
Chilly moonlight on water by the tower;
west wind in the city on the river.
What need now to hear the Wu-ch'i Song
with its bitter resentment at southern journeys?
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