Fresh Chinese Leek is cut in the spring mist.
It is cooked as food and who can resist.
Its fragrance still spreads when we chat at lunch.
We cherish our old days while drinking punch.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
http: //poem.bestfd.com/bbs/forum.php? mod=viewthread&tid=12101&extra=page%3D1
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i'm sorry this very.very poor... not enough, god bless for you..