|字體：小 中 大|
Sunlight on Mt. Lu shining like wafts of purple vapor,
faraway cataract hanging there like a white, rapid river.
Waters galloping straight down like from Heaven,
just as the galaxies falling out of His nineth layer.
PS When I was beholding a cascade somewhere at 大溝溪 in Neihu yesterday morning with several former colleages, suddenly I recalled subject famous poem, which had been the very first one I taught my daughter to rote when she was three or four.
Like I have always said, artistic imagination is the best vehicle for enjoying and appreciating any scenery, not through the eyes of we ordinary people, nor by the most sophisticated camera. Though not everyone can be a poet or an artist, at least he or she can get ride of that stupid idea: 打卡.
|( 創作｜散文 )|