from The Nineteen Old Poems of the Han by Liu Pang: No. 6

I forded the River to pluck the hibiscus,
and in the orchid marsh of many fragrant grasses:
To whom shall I give what I have taken?
The one I think of is on a far-off way;
does he still turn to gaze on his old home?
On the long road the distance slowly grows,
the single heart we share is forced to dwell in two places:
naught but grief and worry as slowly we grow old.

translated by J.P. Seaton

2 thoughts on “from The Nineteen Old Poems of the Han by Liu Pang: No. 6

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