my idle dreams roam far,
to the southern land where spring is fragrant.
wind and strings play on a boat on the river's clear surface,
the city is full of catkins flying like light dust.
people are occupied admiring the flowers.
my idle dreams roam far,
to the southern land where autumn is clear.
for a thousand li over rivers and hills cold colours stretch far,
deep in flowering reeds, a solitary boat is moored.
beneath the bright moon, a flute plays in the tower.
2 comments:
we are south, I guess everyone can claim to be south of something...we had a lyrical summer day yesterday- you would have loved every moment!
Cheers!
summer here has been very warm, at times very humid, at times very dry . . . each phase of a day is like a stanza in a poem . . . steven
Post a Comment