Wang Ya
(II)
When tired of breaking willow branch before my bower,
I pluck at leisure by poolside the lotus flower.
I can not find your face when I ride on my horse,
But hear the cloud echo war cries of combat force. 2m4Idmmw9XSm20wW0h4uV9SY0Efr2JQHyLVVyry8gd3B56yjGkiDzrFVLhp0P25T