Yuan Mei: A Challenge From the Moon

The moon leans mirrored on the dark guitar As though she fears its cadences unheard May lapse into the night. Oh! I am stirred By some some rare tone afar Caught from the drifting Palaces of Cold, 1 Where pale musicians through the moon-mists peer, And challenged into song. Of waters rolled Seaward I sing. Now clear Now muffled in the wreathèd haze, now fall My chords far strangled down the forest. All My cares are centred in the strings, and I forget That night and dawn on the long grey line have met.