又到绿杨曾折处, <?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /> 不语垂鞭, 踏遍清秋路。 衰草连天无意绪, 雁声远向萧关去。 不恨天涯行役苦, 只恨西风, 吹梦成今古 。 明日客程还几许, 沾衣况是新寒雨。 Tune: “Butterflies in Love with Flowers” Here where we parted and did break Green poplar sprigs that each should take For true love's sake, —Wordless, riding-crop limp trailing, Again those well-remembered ways I tread, in the clear autumn rays; Fronting a world of blear grass, feeling failing: And far unto the Frontier Pass wild geese are wailing. ‘Tis not the bitterness of ever wending On pilgrimage unending: No, 'tis the West Wind's moaning makes me sorrow, Which all our dreams must blow Into the nothingness of evermore. Yet farther, ever farther, on the morrow The wanderer must go, |
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