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"Jian Han Poetry Cold"

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    "Jian Han Poetry Cold" 2017/4/25

    The fallen leaves dance with the wind, and the remaining flowers spread the quiet path.

    Dead vines climb rocks, old trees with stumps.

    The clouds swim lazily, and the lone goose sings in sorrow.

    The wind blows the thoughts, and the rain beats the sorrow.

    The old matter is brought up again, and there is no such thing as resentment.

    The bottom of the pen is cold, and the ink in the poem is cold.

    The tears of the red candle are about to dry, and the moon shines on the screen window to be quiet.

    How can we blame impermanence, fate is determined by God.  (Remember the site URL: www.hlnovel.com
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