The Peach-leaf Ferry Crossing and Western Mound Road 1 are
bordered by the misty waves. The evening tide has accompanied my broken heart
for ten years. I pluck old willow branches again and say farewell to light
gulls. As I lean against the tall gazebo alone, I realize that our happiness has
faded into the past. A gust of cool breeze suddenly rises. Seen from the shoal,
flying sails disappear into the distant mist. Greenness is displayed across the
mountain at sunset. The spray and I reveal our shattered spirits together in the
reflection of this autumn river.
I recall the time when I saw you off under the dim candlelight in the
magnificent parlor. As you turned back, your sentimental glance was as shiny and
beautiful as flowing water. Your bones were made of ice. Your fair hands were
flecked with snow. I recall that it was those hands that cut oranges for me
revealing your deep care. The wine cup is not yet washed. I wish I could meet
you in my dreams. My face is soaked by the remaining tears. It is a pity that an
autumn night is spent with sparse rain and the occasional chirps of crickets.
1
Both the Peach-leaf Ferry Crossing and Western Mound Road refer to his
ex-wife who left him ten years ago.