Inscribed on a Painting of Bamboo
Fourth watch, the moon sinks, paper window calm.
I sober up from wine, lean head on hand,
read books for a while.
But pure imagination presses upon me—
I cannot stop it…
until ten stalks of cold blue-green
spread their shadows!
I sober up from wine, lean head on hand,
read books for a while.
But pure imagination presses upon me—
I cannot stop it…
until ten stalks of cold blue-green
spread their shadows!
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