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This temple to the north of Ch'in-chou walls
Is said to be the home of former kings.
About its age creep moss and slimy things:
The colors peeling from its empty halls.


The dew-pearled leaves against the moonbeams play.
The mountain breeze the clouds across it brings.
The River turns in mere contempt away,
And eastward from this sullen sorrow flings.


Where myriad peaks in wildered chaos peer,
Covered with clouds although no wind be near,
In rock-strewn valley cowers this lonely town.
Ere night the Moon will o'er the Pass appear.


In you far country why so long delay?
He comes not back who Lou-lan went to slay.
Across the clouds of dust and mist I stare
Whose broken soughings brush my face all day.