Taking Leave
Blue mountains to the north of the walls,
White rivers winding about them;
Here we must make separation
And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass.
Mind like a floating wide cloud.
Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances
Who smile under their waving hands at a distance.
White rivers winding about them;
Here we must make separation
And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass.
Mind like a floating wide cloud.
Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances
Who smile under their waving hands at a distance.