Many plants need espaliers.
You are bowed and tied on creepers.
Eternal dictions are easy sexes.
Gods rate up my clean sweeps.
5 ounces of rice are five dishes.
Five dishes of stars are with colors.
My law to life is poem on disc.
Fan in and Fan out on Fan-story.
No quarries are quarrels for noble words.
Your skins are furs to bad tiles.
My poems are on ways of little honors.
Did dictions do the works to tricks?
---Cheung Shun Sang=Cauchy3--
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem