Tears
Wang Seng-Ju
High over the hill the moon barque steers.
The lantern lights depart.
Dead springs are stirring in my heart;
And there are tears…
But that which makes my grief more deep
Is that you know not when I weep.
High over the hill the moon barque steers.
The lantern lights depart.
Dead springs are stirring in my heart;
And there are tears…
But that which makes my grief more deep
Is that you know not when I weep.
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