Songs Of The Brazen Immortal Bidding Farewell To Han - Poem by Li He
In the Mao-ling tomb lies the lad named Liu,
Guest of the autumn wind.
At night we hear his whinnying horse
At dawn not a hoof-print there.
From painted balustrades, the cassia trees
Cast down autumnal fragrance.
Over six-and-thirty palaces grow
The courtiers of Wei harnessed their chariots
To travel a thousand leagues.
The vinegar wind from the eastern passes
Arrowed their eyes.
Vainly bearing the moon of Han
I went out of the palace gates.
Remembering the emperor, my pure tears
Dropped down like molten lead.
Withering orchids bade them farewell
On the Hsian-yang road.
If God could suffer as we do
God too would grow old.
Bearing my dew-plate, I journeyed alone
By the light of the cold, wild moon,
Already Wei-cheng lay far behind
And its waters faintly calling.
Comments about Songs Of The Brazen Immortal Bidding Farewell To Han by Li He
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You