The Jade Mountain
ON A MOONLIGHT NIGHT
Far off in Fu-chou she is watching the moonlight,Watching it alone from the window of her chamber—For our boy and girl, poor little babes,Are too young to know where the Capital is.Her cloudy hair is sweet with mist,Her jade-white shoulder is cold in the moon.. . . When shall we lie again, with no more tears,Watching this bright light on our screen?
A SPRING VIEW
Though a country be sundered, hills and rivers endure;And spring comes green again to trees and grassesWhere petals have been shed like tearsAnd lonely birds have sung their grief.. . . After the war-fires of three months,One message from home is worth a ton of gold.. . . I stroke my white hair. It has grown too thinTo hold the hairpins any more.
148
