THE HARD ROAD
Pure wine costs， for the golden cup， ten thousand coppers a flagon，
And a jade plate of dainty food calls for a million coins.
I fling aside my food-sticks and cup， I cannot eat nor drink……
I pull out my dagger， I peer four ways in vain.
I would cross the Yellow River， but ice chokes the ferry；
I would climb the Taihang Mountains， but the sky is blind with snow……
I would sit and poise a fishing-pole， lazy by a brook ——
But I suddenly dream of riding a boat， sailing for the sun……
Journeying is hard，
Journeying is hard.
There are many turnings ——
Which am I to follow？……
I will mount a long wind some day and break the heavy waves
And set my cloudy sail straight and bridge the deep， deep sea.