You ask how I spend my time—I nestle against a treetrunkand listen to autumn windsin the pines all night and day.
Shantung wine can’t get me drunk.The local poets bore me.My thoughts remain with you,like the Wen River, endlessly flowing.
Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *
Name *
Email *
Website
Save my name, email, and website in this browser for the next time I comment.
Δ
