A morning rain has settled the dust in Weicheng;
Willows are green again in the tavern dooryard...
Wait till we empty one more cup –
West of Yang Gate there'll be no old friends.

Wei City morning rain dampens the light dust. By this inn, green, newly green willows. I urge you to drink another cup of wine; West of Yang Pass, are no old friends. | Mike O'Connor, "Wei City Song" in Where the World Does Not Follow (2002), p. 119 | No dust is raised on pathways wet with morning rain, The willows by the tavern look so fresh and green. I invite you to drink a cup of wine again: West of the Southern Pass no more friends will be seen. | Xu Yuan-zhong, "A Farewell Song" in 150 Tang Poems (1984), p. 29 | Light rain is on the light dust. The willows of the inn-yard Will be going greener and greener, But you, Sir, had better take wine ere your departure, For you will have no friends about you When you come to the gates of Go. | Ezra Pound, epigraph to "Four Poems of Departure", in Cathay (1915), p. 28

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