I sat on the root of the tree exposed to the ground
The shadow of the tree lies affectionately at my feet
On that sunny day
My feelings turn into wisps of sunshine
Poetry poured into my heart one after another.
Didn't tell me why.
In a calm mind
Set off waves
Black produced by water and ink
Thick and light tick me out.
That piece of rice paper from that year, hasn't it dried yet?
Touch a palpitation of dull pain, you with a paintbrush in your hand
The black hair fluttering over the shoulder is still here.