At dawn we leave White King, its clouds all colored, For passage to Kiang-ling in one sun's circuit. While both banks' gibbons cry calls still unceasing, Our light boat has gone by many fold mountains.

Bouguerne Rachida 2024-10-28

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At dawn we leave White King, its clouds all colored,
For passage to Kiang-ling in one sun's circuit.
While both banks' gibbons cry calls still unceasing,
Our light boat has gone by many fold mountains.

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