the late springby Yu Xuanji
lovers seldom come to this deep alley
their spirits have to linger on in dreams
whose fragrance of damask is this?
from which tower does this breeze blow the song?
sounds of drums in the street
disturb my morning sleep
magpies chirping in the courtyard
confuse my spring sorrows
how can I care
for things of this world?
ten thousand miles, my life,
like a boat unmoored
Assuming that time is not an illusion,
13 hours ago