HILLS OF HAN

By Samuel Merwin

Hills of Han,

Slumber on! The sunlight, dying,

Lingers on your terraced tops;

Yellow stream and willow sighing,

Field of twice ten thousand crops

Breathe their misty lullabying,

Breathe a life that nei'er stops.

Spin your chart of ancient wonder,

Fold your hands within your sleeve,

Live and let live, work and ponder,

Be tradition, dream, believe...

So abides your ancient plan,

Hills of Han!

Hills of Han,

What's this filament goes leaping

Pole to pole and hill to hill?

What these strips of metal creeping

Where the dead have lain so still.

What this wilder thought that's seeping

Where was peace and gentle will?

Smoke of mill on road and river,

Roar of steam by temple wall...

Drop the arrow in the quiver...

Bow to Buddha.... All is all!

Slumber they who slumber can,

Hills of Han!

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