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tóng
cóng

nán
zhāi
wán
yuè

shān
yīn
cuī
shǎo
fǔ

 


With my brother at the south
gāo
wò
nán
zhāi
shí

kāi
wéi
yuè
chū
tǔ


qīng
huī
dàn
shuǐ
mù

yǎn
yàng
zài
chuāng
hù


rǎn
rǎn

yíng
xū

chéng
chéng
biàn
jīn
gǔ


měi
rén
qīng
jiāng
pàn

shì
yè
yuè
yín
kǔ


qiān


rú
hé

wēi
fēng
chuī
lán
dù



Lying on a high seat in the south study,

We have lifted the curtain-and we see the rising moon

Brighten with pure light the water and the grove

And flow like a wave on our window and our door.

It will move through the cycle, full moon and then crescent again,

Calmly, beyond our wisdom, altering new to old.

...Our chosen one, our friend, is now by a limpid river --

Singing, perhaps, a plaintive eastern song.

He is far, far away from us, three hundred miles away.

And yet a breath of orchids comes along the wind.



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