That I am glad to be an exile here in this wild southland
爱上海同城对对碰 / 2018年9月24日

Liu Zongyuan DWELLING BY A STREAM I had so long been troubled by official hat and robe That I am glad to be an exile here in this wild southland. I am a neighbour now of planters and reapers. I am a guest of the mountains and woods. I plough in the morning, turning dewy grasses, And at evening tie my fisher-boat, breaking the quiet stream. Back and forth I go, scarcely meeting anyone, And sing a long poem and gaze at the blue sky. Wang Changling AT A BORDER-FORTRESS Cicadas complain of thin mulberry-trees In the Eighth-month chill at the frontier pass. Through the gate and back again, all along the road, There is nothing anywhere but yellow reeds and grasses And the bones of soldiers from You and from Bing Who have buried their lives in the dusty sand. …Let never a cavalier stir you to envy With boasts of his horse and his horsemanship Wang Changling UNDER A 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 Lingtao. Old battles, waged by…