Moonlit Night
Du Fu
Tonight, the moon above Fuzhou shines;
alone, she watches it from her chamber.
From afar I ache for our little children—
too young to understand longing for Chang’an.
Fragrant mist dampens her cloud-like hair;
the clear moonlight chills her jade-white arms.
When will we lean against the gauze curtain together,
bathed in the same light, our tear-stains finally dry?
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