Author Arthur Waley The town visitor's easy talk flows in an endless stream;The country host's quiet thoughts ramble timidly on“I beg you, Sir, do not tell me about things at Chang'an;For you entered just when my lute was tuned and lying balanced on my knees.” Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments