An original 古風 song for day fourteen — an aging scholar stands alone at the riverside pavilion as dusk settles over the water. He has just watched a friend's boat push off from the ferry landing and disappear slowly around the bend. The wine in the cup has gone cold. Maple leaves drift downstream on their own. The konghou (箜篌) opens the song with cascading arpeggios — each falling note a ripple spreading from where the oar last broke the surface.
The song moves through the particular stillness that follows a departure: not the sharp grief of the moment of parting, but the longer, quieter ache that comes after — the pavilion empty, the lanterns along the far bank just beginning to show, the crane's cry fading where the river curves into cloud.
Theme: farewell journeys (round 3). Literary Chinese throughout.