Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Poems - 6. Night Song
Alone among flowers
my jug of wine--
peach-blossomed forgetfulness
and late evening shine--
wine over bridge
is bridge over water,
and moon in a rippling sky.
Someone invited
that mute old loon
to join us on the West Lake.
Our lips open to a tune:
"By the huai he
we walk like immortals..."
Your feet are wet with dew.
A cock in the hills
awakess a gray sun--
my companions must scatter,
and night is gone;
I feign sleep
on this cold bed
in the silent hour before dawn.
- 1
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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