With friends I open wide my
eyes;
Friendless, I speak to
falling flowers.
The slender grass in warm
wind sighs;
On sparkling sand cool
moonlight showers.
Life seems a dream in countries
strange;
Companions make me forget
home.
My lute and books I won’t
arrange;
I sit to see evening cloud
roam.
Li Zhi (1527-1602)
