Being on Duty All Night in the Palace and Dreaming of the Hsien-yu Temple

At the western window I paused from writing rescripts;
The pines and bamboos were all buried in stillness.
The moon rose and a calm wind came;
Suddenly, it was like an evening in the hills.
And so, as I dozed, I dreamed of the South West
And thought I was staying at the Hsien-yu Temple.
When I woke and heard the dripping of the Palace clock
I still thought it the murmur of a mountain stream.
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Po Ch├╝-i
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