It was short but glorious.
Beautiful as the sprouting
Flowers of spring,
Comely as a young maiden,
Relaxing as morning breeze;
The sun shone in the middle
Of night, holding humans
Breathless and bewildered;
The moon just stood radiant
Like a bride by her groom’s side.
It was short but memories apt.
The heart stood weeping,
Like a love-sick mother,
For the loss so thick, so tall;
The waters from the fall
Set down at the hill’s foot
A tweaking glassy pond
…and such was the story
That the heydays are over!
« return.