December 24th, 2016


2016 в стихах

( январь )

Highland Oolong In Winter Night

I watch through rare evening's curtain

how winter light becomes uncertain,

how pigeons get their scanty bread

and leave sad sparrows unfed,

I brew oolong in earthen teapot

and feel its warmth, and want to keep it,

to wait till Yu refills her spoon,

to take the path of silent moon.

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