|字體：小 中 大|
From a peddler, a plum blossom in bud I bought.
Dews evenly tinted, still on the ruddy petals like glow.
Afraid he thinks, the flower is prettier than I am.
Onto my hair, clasp it just to let him tell me the truth.
Retiredbum notes: It is the best poem that describes how could a woman play the woman to the man she loves.
|( 創作｜散文 )|