Sadness in the Autumn Chambers
Autumn winds blow in from Chieh-shih Mountain;
thousands of trees turn sparse and bare.
Wild geese fly beyond the cold sands;
hibiscus is moist with drops of rain.
Like silken threads, the moonlight
glimmering on the loom;
written on silk, the letters
that come in dreams.
Her man has been gone for one year now —
in the high chamber she spends the whole night alone.
thousands of trees turn sparse and bare.
Wild geese fly beyond the cold sands;
hibiscus is moist with drops of rain.
Like silken threads, the moonlight
glimmering on the loom;
written on silk, the letters
that come in dreams.
Her man has been gone for one year now —
in the high chamber she spends the whole night alone.
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