The evening sun crosses the western range,
The many ravines swiftly have turned to dusk;
The moon in the pines brings the evening cool,
The breeze over mountain rills rivets my attention.
Woodsmen returning crave their rest,
In the mist birds begin choosing their perches.
There's only I waiting for you to come,
A lone lute biding by the wisteria path.
Meng Hao-jan 689~740
宿業師山房待丁大不至
夕陽度西嶺， 群壑倏已暝；
松月生夜涼， 風泉滿清聽
樵人歸欲盡， 烟鳥棲初定。
之子期宿來， 孤琴候蘿徑。
孟浩然 689~740
