The Yellow Crane Terrace

Where long ago a yellow crane bore a sage to heaven,
Nothing is left now but the Yellow Crane Terrace.
The yellow crane never revisited earth,
And white clouds are flying without him for ever.
. . . Every tree in Han-yang becomes clear in the water,
And Parrot Island is a nest of^sweet grasses;
But I look toward home, and twilight grows dark
With a mist of grief on the river waves.