A Cool Night

Trial reading: I was speechless when I returned home, with the wine still in my cup and the loneliness between my brows. . . . The drizzle is light and sad, and the thin wine buries the withered roses. . . . I am always a bit widowed and live so falsely. . . . Unable to brainwash itself, the mask is getting old. . . . In the Universal King's Land, only suffering remains. . . . Collection of poems·Ye Wuhen—Collection of prose·The chill of spring. If you don't like poetry and prose, don't read it.