Climbing Lord Wu’s Terrace in Autumn for

a Distant View

by Liu Changqing

translated by E. Chang

On this ancient terrace, desolated and deteriorated,

I stand on an autumn day with a homesick heart.

In the wilds, the temple has attracted few visitors.

The peaks, across the stream, are deep in the clouds.

The setting sun lingers on the ancient rampart.

The bare forest is filled with the sound of qing.

It saddens me to recount things of the Southern Dynasties.

Only the Long River still flows as ever.