A Word From The Wind

From an ancient Chinese Ballad of the fourth century A.D. There is some one of whom I keep a-thinking; There is some one whom I visit in my dreams, Though a hundred hills stand sentinel between us, And the dark rage of a hundred sunless streams. For the same bright moon is kind to us, And the same untrammelled wind to us, Daring a hundred hills, Whispers the word that thrills. And the dust of my heart, laid bare, Shows the lilies that linger there.