Peach Blossom Stream

There is no rest beside this stream, no love.
Once a lotus root is severed, it won’t grow again.

Where once I waited by the red bridge rail
I walk through yellow leaves alone.

Mountains rise, green above the mist.
The red sun rides a wild goose into the dusk.

I drift like winds in a river of cloud.
Catkins after rain hold to the ground like love.

-Chou Pang-yen

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