No Title (Last Night's Stars and Last Night's Wind)

No Title (Last Night's Stars and Last Night's Wind)

Last night's stars, last night's breeze,

By the painted tower's west, east of the cassia hall.

Though I lack the wings of a phoenix to fly with you,

My heart shares with you a single point of spiritual rhinoceros horn.

Across the seats we passed the hook, the spring wine warm,

In divided teams we guessed at the candle, the wax lamp red.

Alas, I hear the watchman's drum and must go to my official post,

Riding my horse to the Orchid Terrace, like a tumbling tumbleweed.