The City Of Choan

The phoenix are at play on their terrace. The phoenix are gone, the river Hows on alone. Flowers and grass Cover over the dark path where lay the dynastic house of the Go. The bright cloths and bright caps of Shin Are now the base of old hills. The Three Mountains fall through the far heaven, The isle of White Heron splits the two streams apart. Now the high clouds cover the sun And I can not see Choan afar And I am sad.