A NIGHT THOUGHT ON TERRACE TOWER
Far through the night a harp is sighing
With a sadness of wind and rain in the strings……
There's a solitary lantern， a bugle-call ——
And beyond Terrace Tower down goes the moon.
……Fragrant grasses have changed and faded
While still I have been hoping that my old friend would come……
There are no more messengers I can send him，
Now that the wildgeese have turned south.