Page:A Hundred and Seventy Chinese Poems (1919).djvu/70

 Slender, slender she plies her white fingers. Click, click go the wheels of her spinning-loom. At the end of the day she has not finished her task; Her bitter tears fall like streaming rain. The Han River runs shallow and clear; Set between them, how short a space! But the river water will not let them pass, Gazing at each other but never able to speak.

Eastern Castle stands tall and high; Far and wide stretch the towers that guard it. The whirling wind uprises and shakes the earth; The autumn grasses grow thick and green. The four seasons alternate without pause, The year's end hurries swiftly on. The Bird of the Morning Wind is stricken with sorrow [ 64 ]