A Toast to
Longevity
A cup of wine, in solitude I sit,
As the host raises a toast to
long life, bit by bit.
My father, on a journey far away,
does roam,
At home, my family grieves the
broken willow before their home.
I've heard of a traveler, once a guest in a distant town,
But now, in this world, his name
is not renowned.
I offer these words on a letter
so true,
And plead with the emperor for
his grace anew.
My charm to enchant, alas, is not mine to wield,
Yet a rooster's crow can make the
world yield.
Oh, the sorrows of youth, like
clouds in the sky,
Who will remember me, as I sit
here and sigh? |