My heart is always where the Wei flows west of the T'ung Kuan Pass
And the Southern Mountains rise to the sun. But my spirit was crushed
and my tears were exhausted By the experience with the Tartars and
the thoughts of the Tibetans there. Now I rise too late to be of any
official service; I move too slowly to be with the immortal company;
Such a withered apparition in the mirror-Will not my good friend
give pity?