Written while Traveling on the Kweilin Road by Li Shang-yin

In this warm country, there is no autumn hue;
Over the clear river, a bright sunset.
Buzz, buss–a few remaining cicadas,
Still reluctant to bid the traveler farewell.
In the small village a dog guards me;
On the flat sand, a monk alone returns.
I wish to gaze toward the northwest,
But all I see are partridges flying again!

translated by James J.Y. Liu

3 thoughts on “Written while Traveling on the Kweilin Road by Li Shang-yin

Leave a reply to Aquileana Cancel reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.