From Qin Country to the Buddhist Priest Yuan
How gladly I would seek a mountain
If I had enough means to live as a recluse!
For I turn at last from serving the State
To the Eastern Woods Temple and to you, my master.
...Like ashes of gold in a cinnamon-flame,
My youthful desires have been burnt with the years-
And tonight in the chilling sunset-wind
A cicada, singing, weighs on my heart.
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Comments about this poem (From Qin Country to the Buddhist Priest Yuan by Meng Haoran )
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