By Li Bai
My old friend bids farewell at Yellow Crane Tower,
In the misty blossoms of March, he goes down to Yangzhou.
His lonely sail is a distant shadow on the blue void,
Till now I only see the Yangtze River flowing to the edge of the sky.
By Li Bai
My old friend bids farewell at Yellow Crane Tower,
In the misty blossoms of March, he goes down to Yangzhou.
His lonely sail is a distant shadow on the blue void,
Till now I only see the Yangtze River flowing to the edge of the sky.