Library

Passing by early morning The floating lotus is blushing and blushing Drunken in the arms of mud Passing by particles of dust Swallowed in sticky water droplets Struggle in vain Passing by the silent and holy singing cicadas In the crevices of old trees Masturbation comforts the sadness Taste this hustle and bustle with cold light Passing by wrinkled clouds Dyed with the golden light of the setting sun Piecing together a gold mesh I don't know how to emerge from the cocoon and become a butterfly The landscape calls restlessly That memory that cannot be recalled Summer is getting old when she starts to reminisce about the past She has started to age Passing by a summer I never passed by you