{"collection":"cfu","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/browse/cfu/fol/fol20.htm","path":"cfu/fol/fol20.htm","source_url":"https://sacred-texts.com/cfu/fol/fol20.htm","text":"A Feast of Lanterns, by L. Cranmer-Byng, [1916]\nThe east wind has returned. The green of the\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0grass renews and I know that spring is here.\n Streams unbound awake into the dance of life.\n Softly the weeping willow waves its long slim\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0boughs.\n What sorrow is there in its movement!\nLight of the sky, most fair, most tender blue!\n Air of the sea, sweet-scented, fresh, green-tinged!\n Bright colours on the emerald, dreaming off into\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0the distance in a half-seen veil\u2014such was the\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0earth.\n The little clouds hover lightly in the heights, each\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0melting into the more radiant beyond.\n Headlong waters are gathered in headlong streams.\n My glance falls on the moss by the river-bend.\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0How delicate and swift its movements in the\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0wind!\n Gauze of the wandering threads whirled here and\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0there, my spirit is minded to escape and whirl \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0along with you.\n O air and light! I am drunk with you! I am\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0dazed\u2014and I am plunged in sorrow.\nOne who has hearkened to the waters roaring\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0down from the heights of Lung, and faint\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0voices from the land of Ch\u2018in; one who has\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0listened to the cries of monkeys on the shores\n\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0of the Yang-tse-Kiang, and the songs of the\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0land of Pa; that renowned beauty Wang\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Chao-Ch\u00fcn, who saw before her the last\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0jasper gate of her native land; that renowned\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Ch\u2018u poet singing the glories of the tinted\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0maple wood\u2014ah! these knew sorrow.\n And if I ascend, and, mindful of them, look out\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0across the blue horizon, I feel the keen pang\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0of grief that, piercing through me, finds my \n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0heart.\nThe soul of man swells like a wave at the coming\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0of spring.\n But there is also the sadness of spring-time, which,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0like falling snow, distracts us.\n Both sorrow and joy throbbing and pulsing\u2014a\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0countless crowd of feelings are stirred and\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0mingle together in this festival of perfume.\n What if I have a friend far away on the shores of\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0the Hsiang! Clouds part us and hide us\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0from each other.\n Upon a little wave I shed the tears of separation,\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0and\u2014little wave going eastward, take to\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0my friend my soul-felt love.\n Oh! that I could grasp this golden light of\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0spring, keep it and horde it\u2014a treasure-trove\n \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0of days for my fairest far-off friend.","title":"A Feast of Lanterns: Li Po: II. Sadness","type":"page"}