The lost one - Meng Haoran

The red gleam o'er the mountains
    Goes wavering from sight,
And the quiet moon enhances
    The loveliness of night.

I open wide my casement
    To breathe the rain-cooled air.
And mingle with the moonlight
    The dark waves of my hair.

The night wind tells me secrets
    Of lotus lilies blue;
And hour by hour the willows
    Shake down the chiming dew.

I fain would take the zither,
    By some stray fancy led;
But there are none to hear me,
    And who can charm the dead?

See all my day-dreams follow
    The bird that leaves the nest;
And in the night I gather
    The lost one to my breast.

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Meng Hao-jan [Meng Haoran] (Chinese: 孟浩然) (689 or 691 – 740) China
Translated by L. Cranmer-Byng
Source: A Lute of Jade, L. Cranmer-Byng, John Murray, 1909 [Project Gutenberg]