The Dusty Entrance
Bid farewell to the fragile shadows, in mountain,
The sunshine showering, like rain.
Do not say the name of the era,
Say only the lights in night, the clapper sound on the tower,
The flowered barge across water, and Moon dipped in river.
Say out of the business, and the strategies.
Behind you, I saw the cool down in July,
The wind whistling in November, the chill in December,
In trance, somewhat.
Walking among the anxiety, and the crows that occasionally scared.
The eyes to face, are innocent and friendly.
There are numerous days falling, gone in the wind.
Do not say who I am,
Say only the vitality of morning glow, and the quiet sea in night.