The Cranes Poem by Bai Juyi
The Cranes
The western wind has blown but a few days;
Yet the first leaf already flies from the bough.
On the drying paths I walk in my thin shoes;
In the first cold I have donned my quilted coat.
Through shallow ditches the floods are clearing away;
Through sparse bamboo trickles a slanting light.
In the early dusk, down an alley of green moss,
The garden-boy is leading the cranes home.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 11:13:04 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Love this- easy to walk alongside him