How gladly I would seek a mountain
If I had enough means to live as a recluse!
For I turn at last from serving the State
To the Eastern Woods Temple and to you, my master.
.mw-parser-output .nowrap,.mw-parser-output .nowrap a:before,.mw-parser-output .nowrap .selflink:before{white-space:nowrap}. . . Like ashes of gold in a cinnamon-flame,
My youthful desires have been burnt with the years—
And tonight in the chilling sunset-wind
A cicada, singing, weighs on my heart.