The view from the window

I was immersed in joy, keep

The original shape of the hillside, but it shrinks

From the entire hillside to a small pine forest

Finally to a low-hanging pine branch

I forget the sadness, but the edge blurred

It keeps expanding and seems to be everywhere

Like the mist rising at dusk

It can't be organized into any concrete shape

From late spring to late spring, countless needles

Sewing them day and night

My heart, dark drawer

Every time I suddenly pull out, it's enough to make me nervous --

As if everything would disappear in an instant

Like the reflection of the river flow, like fiction

Heavy balls of stained glass

At the moment of pulling out, it becomes a bubble

And the body, withstand life

Can withstand joy, also can withstand sadness and sewing

It is sure of everything

Perhaps the heart just arrives more slowly

The road to go too long, experienced too many ups and downs

I had already returned to my room

The heart is still hesitant in the stone steps of last year

Dusk looked on, obscuring the fields

Like an old letter I don't want to open

In this way, I continue to sustain

Those delicate balances in the drawer