To a Friend Bound North After the Rebellion
- Poetry of Sikong Shu

In dangerous times we two came south;

Now you go north in safety, without me.

But remember my head growing white among strangers,

When you look on the blue of the mountains of home.

...The moon goes down behind a ruined fort,

Leaving star-clusters above an old gate....

There are shivering birds and withering grasses,

Whichever way I turn my face.