One Thought, a Mortal Life · Above and Below, All Connected · 78 / 102
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An Yang Hao — in an ordinary year of plenty, I loved this human world. Only when my eyes swept the emptied city, every trace of people gone, did I see that the noise and bustle were what nurtured our home. I long for the old rivers and hills.
Night of the full moon; tea stains seep into the golden silkworm. Merit and blame come down to settling right and wrong; the bitter cold is hard to forget, and I dread sitting idle. On the , no one has slept.
Glosses—
ordinary good year: 1. a year of ordinary good harvest;
golden silkworm: 1. a silkworm cast in gold; a kind of object buried with emperors in antiquity.
*This piece is an original work. If you repost it, please credit the original author Shixi Lin; any infringement, once discovered, will be pursued to the full extent of the law. In addition, the accompanying illustration comes from the internet and belongs to its original artist, Yichui Wuyue.