介绍:
Revisiting General He’s
III
Setting sun over the level terrace,
spring breeze at the moment of sipping tea.
At the stone railing I dip my brush aslant[1],
I sit writing poems on paulownia[2] leaves.
Kingfishers sing on the clothes-racks,
dragonflies stand on the fishing line.
From this moment my zest at seclusion is complete,
and there also will be no set times for coming or going.
单词释义
[1] aslant [əˈslɑːnt] adv. 倾斜地; 歪斜地;
[2] paulownia [pɔːˈləʊnɪə] n. 泡桐，毛泡桐;
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