A Night Thought on Terrace Tower
- Poetry of Wei Zhuang

Far through the night a harp is sighing

With a sadness of wind and rain in the strings....

There's a solitary lantern, a bugle-call --

And beyond Terrace Tower down goes the moon.

...Fragrant grasses have changed and faded

While still I have been hoping that my old friend would come....

There are no more messengers I can send him,

Now that the wildgeese have turned south.