My j**eled mat feels like fall — scents wilt from the once-red lotus flower
With silken skirt drawn loose I board my magnolia boat alone with the hour
Who is it that sends a gilded letter my way across the clouds?
News-bearing geese return with the season when chill of moonlight fills the tower
The wind-stripped flowers are blown away and the river just coldly runs
The longing we bear is one and the same — an idling grief in two places at once
This feeling goes on and I just can't find it in me to put it out
When it falls from the brim of my brows that moment it climbs to the rim of my heart and dawns