A FRESHLY-OPENED CHERRY BUD ... HER LIPS UPON THE FLUTE. SHE LEANS IN THE CORNER OF THE BALCONY: THE NIGHT IS CHILL, HER SILKEN ROBES ARE THIN, HER FINGERS COLD ... BUT MUSIC FLOATS THROUGH FROSTY WOODS AND STARTLED PLUMS FALL PATTERING DOWN. [Chang Hsien]
WEEP NOT, YOUNG WOMEN
IT IS ALWAYS SAD AUTUMN WHEN OUR ENEMIES SWEEP DOWN THEIR RAIDERS FROM THE MOUNTAINS TO INVADE US.
THE TRUMPETS SUMMON THE WARRIORS! THEY WILL RIDE ON TILL THEY COME TO THE GREAT WALL. THEN THEY WILL RIDE BEYOND IT, OUT ON THE GREAT KOBI DESERT.
THERE, ONLY THE COLD BARE MOON. ONLY COLD BEADS OF DEW ON SWORDS AND SHIELDS. HOW THEY SHIVER.
WEEP NOT, YOUNG WOMEN ... THIS IS NO TIME TO START YOUR WEEPING. WHO KNOWS HOW LONG THAT YOU MUST WEEP? [Li Po]
BEFORE AND AFTER
LOOKING BACKWARD ... I CANNOT SEE THE ANCIENTS OF DAYS. LOOKING FORWARD ... I CANNOT SEE AGES YET TO COME. ONLY HEAVEN AND EARTH HAVE REMAINED, AND WILL REMAIN FOREVER ... I AM ALONE, I GRIEVE, I DROP TEARS INTO THE DUST. [Chen Tzu-ang]
