The works of Li Po, the Chinese poet | ||
194
[OMITTED]
131. TO LI PO
Long have I not seen you, Li.
Poor man, for your feigned madness
The world would have you die.
But my heart dotes on your gifted soul
For the thousand poems of your nimble wit,
For the one wine-cup—your penury's balm.
So to your old place of reading in Mount Kuang
Come back, O white-headed one! It is time.
Poor man, for your feigned madness
The world would have you die.
But my heart dotes on your gifted soul
For the thousand poems of your nimble wit,
For the one wine-cup—your penury's balm.
So to your old place of reading in Mount Kuang
Come back, O white-headed one! It is time.
Tu Fu.
The works of Li Po, the Chinese poet | ||