The Dream Lingers
Qu Qiubai
A misty rain enfolds the hilly town,
Imparting to this spring a tingling cold.
Chilly beneath a single blanket, old
Reminiscences I let in shreds be strewn.
How’s it, when all affinities with th’ real
World have subsided from the conscious mind,
There is a tenderness that gets entwined
Around the cloud-veiled mountains still?