The Cold Wind
A herd of hawks hover in ten thousand li of high altitude
A lonely horse is buried in Qin Sichuan’s soil
At this night, the cold wind is blowing the tears of the moon
Wails to come at a distance, that is a cuckoo of the insomnia on the tree.
Wenze : Give my regards to Lu Yao
Poem was written in the 10th anniversary of Lu Yao’s death in 1992.
