On midnights…the wind gong sings
To the samurai constellations
As the cherry trees blossom
In a nexus of diamond petals
And furnace drops of dew

Now silken are the roads of China

And only starlit sky and rice lit fields
Mourn again the rivers gold
Where I take my brush again
To paint the tea tree forest,
And people of the dragons

Who write through Wén-yán history