I Climb The Western Tower In Silence
By Li Yu
Wordless, alone, to the West Tower I climb the stair;
The Moon, like a curved sword, hangs there.
Held captive in the deep courtyard and its lonesome phoenix tree,
Is the cool, pure Autumn breeze.
Cut it, it doesn’t sever;
Sort it, as entangled as ever —
It is a great sorrow to part,
Creating an entirely different feeling in my heart
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