BY LI T'AI-PO
From whose house do the invisible notes of a jade flute come flying?
The Spring wind scatters them. They fill the City of Lo Yang.
To-night, as the phrases form, I hear "The Snapped Willow."
To whom do they not bring back the love of his old, early garden?
THE RETREAT OF HSIEH KUNG
BY LI T'AI-PO
The sun is setting—has set—on the Spring-green Mountain.