Wang Wei stepped forward. On his mother’s breast he placed an exquisite jade ring, and his favorite paint brushes. They would be buried with her. Then he went outdoors and wandered in the mountains. He could feel the insidious death that creeps silent, invisibly about the countryside in autumn. Parched leaves crunched to dust beneath his feet. The trees held out their gaunt bare arms as though in supplication. It was impossible not to breathe in this feeling of decay and destruction. Soon winter would come with its soft cover¬ let of white to hide the scars.
Moodily he chanted a verse:
"We parted at the gorge and cried, ‘Good cheer!’
The sun was setting as I closed my door;
Methought, the spring will come again next year,
But it may come no more."
Months went by and he did not return to Changan, then news drifted to the Western Capital that he had turned his retreat into a Buddhist monastery.
17.
Although the Court usually moved to Warm Springs to escape the cold of winter, it was Yang Kuei-fei’s wish that it remain in Changan. She could not bear the thought of parting from her garden. Under the tutelage of Lan Jen she was studying flowers. She was captivated by the privilege of raising flowers in the snow.
Joyous indeed was the Court when snow came. Joy-
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