To Buddhist Priest Yuan From Chang'An - Poem by Meng Haoran
One hillock often wish lie
Three times hardship without money
North land not my wish
East forest think my master
Gold burn cassia exhaust
Great ideal each year decline
Sun set cool wind come
Hear cicada still increase sorrow
I'd often like to lie atop a hill,
Instead I suffer hardship, lacking money.
This northern land was never what I wished,
Instead I think of my teacher in the eastern forest.
Golden flecks in the ash of cassia wood,
My great ideals decline more year by year.
As the sun goes down, a chilling wind appears,
To hear cicadas makes me sorrow more.
Comments about To Buddhist Priest Yuan From Chang'An by Meng Haoran
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