"Travel to Beimang" by Zhang Ji
On Beimang Road at the north gate of Luoyang, funeral carriages rumble into the autumn grass.
In front of the car, people sing the song of sage dew, and in the high tomb there is a new wave of white flowers.
People attend the funeral day and night, and there are even more people in Luoyang City.
Thousands of gold erects a monument a hundred feet high, but it will eventually become the foundation stone of someone’s family.
The pines and cypresses on the mountaintops are half ownerless, and there are more bones than soil underground.
Every Hanshi family sends paper money, and the black kite builds its nest and climbs up the tree.
The people living in the city have not solved their worries, so I ask you to travel to Beimang for the time being.