Out Of The Great Wall
The yellow sand rises as high as white cloud;
The lonely town is lost amid the mountains proud.
Why should the Mongol flute complain no willows grow?
Beyond the Jade Gate vernal wind will never blow!
Parting From Wang Wei
Lonely, lonely I wait in vain, alas!
Day in, day out, I come back sad at heart.
I'd like to seek my homeland's fragrant grass,
But I am grieved with my old friend to part.
Those in high places will not lend a hand;
In the human world good coonoisseurs are few.
I'll close my garden gate in native land
And live in solitude with nothing in view.
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