One Thought, a Mortal Life · Stubborn and Foolish by Nature · 11 / 102
· Innocence
A flute note falls across a thousand mountains; the dream goes home to native ground; beyond the sky, the light runs low. In vain I tug at the scenery — willow withes, green tendrils — that wind sorrow and joy together.
The poet's soul chases the drifting haze until it is gone, keeping watch as the all moves away. Round after round of the wheel; the blade is what it was, and yet it has grown ordinary.
Glossary—
Diǎo: to draw, to pull.
*This is an original work. If you reproduce it, please credit the original author Shixi Lin; any infringement, once discovered, will be pursued for legal liability. In addition, the accompanying image comes from the internet and belongs to the original game Moonlight Blade OL.