The small temple in the mountain lonely endures
the cold winter and chilly sky,
An aery and old tree stands alone
in the yard, bare and shy.
From afar, everywhere I can see the plum blossoms
release the red image.
The blossom spring, which is approaching, will soon,
fill the deep hermitage.
(May,29th,2024, Kinsley Lee)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem