The Afternoon Of The Late Spring Poem by Kinsley Lee

The Afternoon Of The Late Spring



To my sorrow, the splendid cherry blossoms, and the traces are vanishing.
On the edge of the bank, as the successor, the royal azaleas are blooming
The nature knows when it goes and retreats, so, gives way by oneself
On the bench the old man who picked the willow twigs and is snoring

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