Chapter 539: 813 poems, the feeling of writing poetry

813 poems, the feeling of writing poetry

813 poems, the feeling of writing poetry

――――――Autumn Reverie Sixty-seven

To prove one's existence

I made up all kinds of nonsense.

I like these nonsense.

Just like the flowing water of a small stream.

Like one's own waves.

Perhaps after many years.

Life will turn into mud and sand.

What I leave behind for the world.

These nonsense.

Still like the banks of a small stream.

Dancing butterflies.

Let those untrodden

Desolate beaches and wild ridges.

Like poetry, like pictures.