On the hill, the crimson-painted main hall stands tall in sole,
As the sun set upon the spring mountain, it looked, silently
Many people scattered, it faded into the darkness, and felt lonely,
Behind the pagoda, a boat sails, serving it as a punting pole.
(25th, May,2023, Kinsley Lee)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem