HERE THE MOON FLOATS BRIGHT OVER HEAVEN’S MOUNTAIN; IT SAILS ON A WHITE-CLOUD OCEAN. FIVE THOUSAND MILES AWAY A SHRILL WIND’S SCREAMING ... AND COLD IS WHISTLING FROM YU-MEN PASS.

THE EMPEROR’S SOLDIERS MARCH DOWN WHITE MOUND ROAD. TARTARS SEARCH THE INLETS OF THE BLUE SEA. SOLDIERS MAY TURN THEIR HEADS, THINKING OF HOME, BUT AT HOME WE NEVER SEE A RETURNING SOLDIER.

SHE IS STANDING ON THE WATCH-TOWER AGAIN TONIGHT. SORROW AND SADNESS WITHOUT END ... IS ALL. [Li Po]