Half Cup of Fragrant Tea

Prose/poetry collection The ink marks have not stained the plain heart, and the smoke from the jade lamp lightly penetrates the blue gauze. The bamboo shadows slant outside the window and the moon shines, and the soft sound of cicadas moistens the tea in the inkstone. Half of the floating life is condensed with clear dew, and the past is lingering in the evening. Let's take advantage of the delicate fragrance to patrol the ancient roads and appreciate the clouds in the quiet world.