Tr.#poem The Night on the Clouds by Feng Na clouds in the north-west of Yunnan are pink they are the setting sun that did not sink down when my tearful mother saw her father pass away all the nights were dry and coarse only mother could make them plenty and plump yet any migrant bird in winter refused to tell the truth on the clouds I sat alone in long muse the third syllable was about death I was so unbearably frightened that I got wet all over with a scarlet heart
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