Gu Gan: 露 (Dew)
When young, I did not know the taste of sorrow.
I went up the tower.
I went up the tower
to write a poem on pretended sorrow.
By now I’ve completely tasted sorrow, but already
I do not want to speak about it.
I do not want to speak about it,
I only say: what a beautiful, cold autumn.
~ Xing Qijia
