At dusk I came down from
the mountain,
The mountain moon as my
companion,
And looked behind at tracks
I’d taken
That were blue, blue below
the skyline :
You took my arm, led me to
your hut
Where small children drew
hawthorn curtains
To green bamboos and a
hidden path
With vines to brush the
traveller’s clothes;
And I rejoiced at a place
to rest
And good wine, too, to
pour out with you :
Ballads we sang, the wind
in the pines,
Till, our songs done,
Milky Way had paled ;
And I was drunk and you
were merry,
We had gaily forgotten the
world !
