|
Post by Changming Yuan on Sept 21, 2007 19:54:29 GMT -5
Without a famous name These little shy leaves Coming afar from my father’s farm Deep among fluffy hills Like sleeping giant pandas . Sowing a few in my crystal glass I see them budding Blooming in boiled water Taking a slow sip I fall drunk as if in a stupor With a tiny taste of All the freshness of spring And a whole morning glow
. .
First appeared in the Prairie Journal (2005-06) no. 45.
|
|