The works of Li Po, the Chinese poet | ||
122
[OMITTED]
82. TO LUH, THE REGISTRAR
It is autumn near and far.
Outside the gate all the hills are barren.
A white cloud, my old friend,
Beckons me from far empyreal space.
Pray, when will Luh Chen-ho come back—
He who has flown west like a crane?
Outside the gate all the hills are barren.
A white cloud, my old friend,
Beckons me from far empyreal space.
Pray, when will Luh Chen-ho come back—
He who has flown west like a crane?
The works of Li Po, the Chinese poet | ||