BY LI T'AI-PO
Li Ling is buried in the sands of Hu.Su Wu has returned to the homes of Han.Far, far, the Five Spring Pass,Sorrowful to see the flower-like snow.He is gone, separated, by a distant country,But his thoughts return,Long sighing in grief.Toward the NorthwestWild geese are flying.If I sent a letter—so—to the edge of Heaven.
Li Ling is buried in the sands of Hu.Su Wu has returned to the homes of Han.Far, far, the Five Spring Pass,Sorrowful to see the flower-like snow.He is gone, separated, by a distant country,But his thoughts return,Long sighing in grief.Toward the NorthwestWild geese are flying.If I sent a letter—so—to the edge of Heaven.
Li Ling is buried in the sands of Hu.Su Wu has returned to the homes of Han.Far, far, the Five Spring Pass,Sorrowful to see the flower-like snow.He is gone, separated, by a distant country,But his thoughts return,Long sighing in grief.Toward the NorthwestWild geese are flying.If I sent a letter—so—to the edge of Heaven.
Li Ling is buried in the sands of Hu.
Su Wu has returned to the homes of Han.
Far, far, the Five Spring Pass,
Sorrowful to see the flower-like snow.
He is gone, separated, by a distant country,
But his thoughts return,
Long sighing in grief.
Toward the Northwest
Wild geese are flying.
If I sent a letter—so—to the edge of Heaven.