Blue mountains to the north of the walls,
White river winding about them;
Here we must make separation
And go out through a thousand miles of dead grass.
Mind like a floating wide cloud,
Sunset like the parting of old acquaintances
Who bow over their clasped hands at a distance.
Our horses neigh to each others
as we are departing
Ever controlled, neither Pound nor Li Bai allow an inch of sentimentalism to enter. At the final moment of parting, the poet is still focused on simply stating external facts, not forcing his thoughts or perspective upon the reader, but allowing her to insert her own sentiments and moods, to truly put herself into the poem. 
