 | The works of Li Po, the Chinese poet |  |
159
[OMITTED]
111. A VISIT TO YUAN TAN-CHIU IN
THE MOUNTAINS
Forth to sylvan retreats I went, a vagabond,
Led by pleasure, and of the distance unaware.
The blue range yonder lay too far to travel
When the giddy sun was ready to set.
Barely had I crossed three, four hills;
The road had taken a thousand and ten thousand turns.
Led by pleasure, and of the distance unaware.
The blue range yonder lay too far to travel
When the giddy sun was ready to set.
Barely had I crossed three, four hills;
The road had taken a thousand and ten thousand turns.
I heard the monkeys wail in the still twilight,
And saw the clouds roll away one by one.
Now came the dainty moon over the tall pines,
How exquisite the autumnal scene of a hollow glen!
There was old snow left in the deep ravine,
And the frosty rapids flew, cutting through rock.
And saw the clouds roll away one by one.
Now came the dainty moon over the tall pines,
How exquisite the autumnal scene of a hollow glen!
There was old snow left in the deep ravine,
And the frosty rapids flew, cutting through rock.
Mountains thrust their peaks in the mid-sky;
I could have climbed and gazed forever
When Tan-chiu, my friend, called me from afar.
He looked at me and burst into laughter.
I could have climbed and gazed forever
When Tan-chiu, my friend, called me from afar.
He looked at me and burst into laughter.
I went to his hermitage down the valley
And entered the solitude of a recluse.
Here we delighted ourselves night-long—
It was lucid day-break when I spoke of going.
And entered the solitude of a recluse.
Here we delighted ourselves night-long—
It was lucid day-break when I spoke of going.
| The works of Li Po, the Chinese poet | |