"Hundred Scrolls for the Castle 1"
Morning or evening evening, the countryside road is far away.
You are on the ground at the entrance of the village, and there is one
Imprint, a pothole to speak.
Flat, but widely read at the moment,
Man took advantage of the frightened bird to fly away and has always existed.
In the midst of what, is it that he has not yet sobered up?
Like a man staggering from a pear blossom to pluck,
Heights, fell.
A little white on your clothes,
Coming from the beauty of peace and sound
But it's not just about now.
Now I don't talk about the future,
So the importance of people,
For you or you, in eternity
The other, though
It is from the end of the rice field in the distance.
In early summer, I painted the pastoral scenery with colorful brushes,
Look down, look up, you're talking.
You're not on the ground, it's definitely not a retreat
a brand formed,
In terms of the leveling of the ground, like
I want to invite you to drink, smell the pear blossoms,
The fragrance of crumbling time.
