At The Border Fortress Poem by Wang Changling
At The Border Fortress
Drink, my horse, while we cross the autumn water! -
The stream is cold and the wind like a sword,
As we watch against the sunset on the sandy plain,
Far, far away, shadowy Ling-t'ao.
Old battles, waged by those long walls,
Once were proud on all men's tongues.
But antiquity now is a yellow dust,
Confusing in the grasses its ruins and white bones.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
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4/26/2024 3:03:31 PM # 1.0.0.1119
