Fox Footprints/Festival
For works with similar titles, see Festival.
Festival
Maple oars lash the sea, red with the setting sun,
The sea-gulls cry aloud like women above the slain,
I sit in the festival boat beneath the awnings of silk,
But there is no joy in my heart.
Shall I never see him again?
The sea-gulls cry aloud like women above the slain,
I sit in the festival boat beneath the awnings of silk,
But there is no joy in my heart.
Shall I never see him again?