The moon swings in the sky like a great bronze bell, and the east rings with its light.
Minds, like drops of dew, reflect the sky; when clouds come, the moon remains.
Trapped between mirrors, we could see eternity but for our own heads.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
The moon swings in the sky like a great bronze bell, and the east rings with its light.
Minds, like drops of dew, reflect the sky; when clouds come, the moon remains.
Trapped between mirrors, we could see eternity but for our own heads.