Artist’s poem: Far trees and flat sand are clothed in fading light; The lu grass on the land-spits rustles in the late faint wind; An empty house becomes the color of the mountain; While for the boatman at the lake’s head Intoxication--still no return. (trans. Richard Edwards) "When on the boat coming back from Stone Lake, I had a good deal of leisure time, and so for my a...
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