Quatrain: Capital / Regulated Verse: Lin Biao

2006/6/3 23:27:31

Capital

Beijing in May, cold as autumn
Resentful rain, mournful wind — even ghosts are sorrowful
Ten thousand li of gray clouds swallowing the sun and moon
The Western Hills — silent — their shadow rising and falling

Lin Biao

Across ten thousand li, the divine land bristled with forest-flags
From the Milky Way, ghostly voices echoed afar
The red-faced elder suspected watchful eyes
The young yellow-haired lad — his heart not at peace
Having waged a hundred battles that shook heaven and earth
In one lonely night-flight, he bewildered past and present
Over the great desert, blue smoke disperses yet gathers
The north wind sends only the bloody soul's lament