Xin Qiji


To The Tune &Quot;A Sprig Of Blossom&Quot;

I wrote this for fun when drunk.

a thousand hands held high to heaven
swept along with a torrent of shouts
a gold seal hanging from my belt
big as a ladle

our riders came in swarms with bows and swords
I commanded them to quickly cover front and rear
we tired all kinds of subterfuge
like children fighting in the grass
determined to prevail

futility!
forget the furrow in my brow
with har turned white
It's useless to look back

Idle now
I pass the time of day
with mountain friends

see those sheep and cattle on the hillside,
who could sort the smart from stupid?

I've taken to tending plants and willows
dreading visitors
tell them I'm drunk this morning
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