In the Wuyi Mountains
In the past decade I have never dreamed of returning home;
I often stand by wild waters or green peaks a solitary soul.
Now in this desolate world the storm has lulled;
When could I be as brave and strong as the plum blossom?
Flowers are faded or falling, fragrance of grasses all gone;
Cane in hand, I feel inclined to turn to the pond.
I should think leaves are more enjoyable than flowers;
With their greenish shadows they have overtones flowers might want.
Farewell to an Envoy on His Mission to Anxi
By Wang Wei
What's got Weicheng's path dust wet is the morning rain,
The willows near the Hotel become green again.
I urge you to empty another cup of wine,
West of the Yangguan Pass you'll see no more of mine.