My temple of contemplation, my heart
By the dark crumpled leaves – walking away from an earlier reign,
Where the pool is hidden by the mist, a lady swims out seeking the sun,
Where the shrubs swallows the hill, a crane flies out and around.
On old flagstone, the steles are covered with dried grass,
Even the Heart of mine is spent and melted away,
This realm of dust still wants more of our grief.
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