New Year's only deepens my longing,
Adds to the lonely tears of an exile
Who, growing old and still in harness,
Is left here by the homing spring .mw-parser-output .nowrap,.mw-parser-output .nowrap a:before,.mw-parser-output .nowrap .selflink:before{white-space:nowrap}. . .
Monkeys come down from the mountains to haunt me.
I bend like a willow, when it rains on the river.
I think of Chia Yi, who taught here and died here—
And I wonder what my term shall be.