The chilled cicadas were shrill,
We sat facing a roadside pavillion in the falling light,
A sudden shower having just passed.
In no mood to drink in the city-gateside tent,
We'd like to dawdle around a while,
But the orchid boar must go.
Holding hands and looking into each other's reary eyes,
We choked,unable to utter words from the heart.
A thousand miles of misty waves would bow keep us apart,
While the evening haze heavy under southern skies
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