Sunday, December 11, 2016

MELANCHOLY.


Sometimes I feel a nameless sadness,

Looking dried leaves withered branch.

Each smile spreads a cool stream,

Discs of suns dances and redden with the flame of golden glowing.

Through the flower buds;

Rain still falls down, spreading through the air.

Flickering red flame beats the drum alone in the dark,

Sharpness like wine relieves of the droplet of grievous winter.


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