The Lost One

The red gleam o'er the mountains

Goes wavering from sight,

And the quiet moon enhances

The loveliness of night.

I open wide my casement

To breathe the rain-cooled air.

And mingle with the moonlight

The dark waves of my hair.

The night wind tells me secrets

Of lotus lilies blue;

And hour by hour the willows

Shake down the chiming dew.

I fain would take the zither,

By some stray fancy led;

But there are none to hear me,

And who can charm the dead?

So all my day-dreams follow

The bird that leaves the nest;

And in the night I gather

The lost one to my breast.

A Lute of Jade : Selections from the Classical Poets of China · 第 42 / 127 题