$BAT $C98 $MRNAB
Fine grass, a breeze along the shore; a lone boat at night, its mast towering.
Stars hang low over the vast plain; the moon surges with the great river’s flow.
How could my fame rest on my writing? Age and illness should have brought my career to an end.
Adrift, what am I like? A sand gull between heaven and earth.
Fine grass, a breeze along the shore; a lone boat at night, its mast towering.
Stars hang low over the vast plain; the moon surges with the great river’s flow.
How could my fame rest on my writing? Age and illness should have brought my career to an end.
Adrift, what am I like? A sand gull between heaven and earth.
