Author: William Xu
To abide by time, sounds are calling
Travelers that wander across the prairie,
Have peace in life, for their delights increase.
Blessed be the mountains and rains, for the shadows
And showers they offer, always graciously.
To love my friends and my lover,
Equally, like the river that rambles on,
Reading every page of the soil. They walk along.
May fraternity bonds them, and destiny finds them
Company of each other, star-crossed.
To the fountain where waters only cycle,
They have come, and they have left;
Yet, thither my reveries still remain, and my
Telltale heart flows with pain. Shall I not
See no water overflowing the stones?
To the water seeping out of my mind’s eye,
Be a river, long and wide. But the mountains
Embrace its every motion, rain adds to its impetus;
So it has been predestined (call it quits!)—
Where the river goes, where the river be. Abides by time.
To every river that runs by, the bells tolling,
Every river that never seems to run by me:
They loneliness travelers, their riverbeds
Shall one day dry, for that I lament, already;
Yet, my water stands; ceaselessly, it repeats itself
In the fountain of eternal melancholy,
Unchanged by the greening and yellowing
Of the leaves on the tree. Their spectres fly past me fast,
But little did I notice. Alas! I shall never see them again.
Forever lost, I shall never see them again.