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graduation poem

o ar é como uma borboleta
um pêssego pequeno no pomar cresceu
moonlight profundo e macio
olhe para fora em cima das estrelas, meu amor
eu estou no amor com lugares far-seeing elevados
em seus braços estava o prazer imóvel
cidade que não é uma cidade
uma tempestade está montando na maré
conseqüentemente eu não posso
eu sou o vento que wavers
não seja falso
quando eu retornei no por do sol
sad são que sabem não o amor
um gleam do ouro no gloom e no cinza

 



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