The crow Ding poem three old men who met me, from the other side of the ocean, I am sure he came from an isolated island, to see me, I did not ask him what kind of transportation he used. He added at the end of the letter

Three crow ding poems

Meeting

My old fellow, come and see me from the other side of the ocean

To be precise, he set out from an isolated island to see me

I didn't ask him what kind of transportation he used. He was in the letter

Finally added: I have a pair of sunken blue eyes

That day I made an appointment by the river, and I met three of the same

A man with deeply concave blue eyes. They faced the fog in the middle of the river

As if, because of the fog relationship is not so real

I joined in... But no conversation, hugs

It was as if everything was in silence

Later, I recalled that there seemed to be nothing special about that day

...... The river gushed through the thick fog, and there was not a single egret in sight

We stood, in the long stream of time

It doesn't seem worth mentioning. But our eyes

Sparkling. Although we try to remain calm

About a river

The river in the deep winter is quiet and orderly

Accept captivity for ancient fences

About a river, it has no name

It doesn't matter anymore. I just want to go down the embankment and get out...

There was always a river that accompanied me

Grow old alone and quietly, like a woman

Until it disappears, or dies

It rained for a day and a night

At the moment, it still hasn't stopped. Out of my window

There, once an endless wilderness

As well as distant mountains. It is now occupied by tall buildings

obscured. But I knew they were still there

Wait for me to get close, touch and discover. Rain falling outside my window

Also down in the wilderness.

I think it won't be long before spring begins.

When the finely broken flower begins to highlight its brand-new face, the thunder agitates

A rain, and it rained again. I think inside me

It is soft and peaceful

I should have walked through the wilderness until I recognized them

It is a relative of mine in this life. But when I think about it

Inexplicable tremors in the heart... Like raindrops

Scratch through the glass, leaving an imprint