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Poetry
Late Autumn Sent to a Gentleman at Wu-ch'ang
Four poems of Kuan Hsiu (832-912)
J. P. Seaton
Heard you're at War-bright Town, living by the River:
Cypress withers, locust rots, in these wartime winds.
I know you're addicted to poetry still: the drug you crave
is hard to come by in a place like that.
Take this: frost sparkle and reed flowers, in bright moonlight.
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