When Autumn Bleeds Through Shadows
By William He
Leave the boughs, let eyes blur.
Thinking of the tip, drawn shade.
Old days—thoughts left lost.
The rivulets hum low,
Peaks trace worn paths,
Flames through flower's honeyed veins once.
The spent sun, like flame-drake, bears ripe fruit,
Now bleeds slow,
Marks pile thick and deep.
Sudden mist stills,
They are curling to false knots,
And rolling through the wide and dim bounds.
Cracked trees kneel to the west wind,
Waiting for the lost scent to fade,
Branches ink the empty air.
All sounds bind the peaks,
Hue drains to rose-tinted gauze,
Small shards of light—how can one know.
One leaf is drifting, silent, through the dusk,
But catches the eye,
Bare pagoda in the chill hush.
To whom is it told,
A flash turns into a long stay,
Then speaks pure news from the heights.
疏影 秋色
作者:何威廉
辞柯目涩,
想梢头曳影,
往日余忆。
水浅轻吟,
山瘦徘徊,
相思花腴燃蜜。
残阳若火龙生果,
正滴血、
殷痕浓积。
忽霭凝、
蜷作疑团,
滚向幽茫寰域。
千树西风顿首,
待遗香去味,
枝写虚白。
万籁连峰,
渐褪朱绡,
碎小怎生堪识。
飘零一叶无言语,
但瞥见、
浮屠萧瑟。
向谁说、
转瞬常恒,
且作上清消息。
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