/semaine gratuitementPoème #10132
Silent Ink of Lushan
A brush of ink across a silken scroll,
The sacred heights of Lushan touch the soul.
The vapors rise from valleys deep and cold,
In stories that the ancient winds have told.
To stand atop the highest, misty crest,
And feel the quiet stir within the breast.
The heavy world is lifted, light and free,
Sailing upon this white, celestial sea.
The sacred heights of Lushan touch the soul.
The vapors rise from valleys deep and cold,
In stories that the ancient winds have told.
To stand atop the highest, misty crest,
And feel the quiet stir within the breast.
The heavy world is lifted, light and free,
Sailing upon this white, celestial sea.
Invite : 庐山 云雾
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