I have poured the the melody of joy on the burnt bamboo flute.

Behind touching the peak of emptiness;
I met the desolate heart.

Pomegranate plant is full of green on canopy
Ripe fruits blood red juice inside ,
a different image intense reddish retina!
In the desert of waiting, in the air of neglect
turning her face,
the rivulet raised her finger to her shore.

The Swan of time chooses satire from tribulation.

The rest of the humiliation wants to chase the hard-hit!

It is pressed on the soles of the fees
but it still smells like perfume.

It that pedestrian goes to four and turns back,
the vermilion spot like sun will respond in the sky-blue when the night breaks.
This is what the rotating earth means with the blink of an eye.

One -eyed dream, one-eyed realty.

How much shrubbery grows along the burnt walls.■