The Silk Spinner

The White King Town’s seen many shipwrecks on the sands.
Who dare to sail through Three Gorges in the fifth moon?
The wheat is ripe, the silkworm has made its cocoon.
My thoughts of you are endless as the silken strands.
The cuckoos sing: “Go Home!” When will you come to homeland?

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *