The Slow Writer - Poem by Charles WOO
At home, chanting and writing become my habit.
Meditating as monk, I live like a hermit.
I am often intoxicated by the fragrance of wine.
Calligraphy and music are practised under the pine.
Thinking the use of words, I break some of my beard.
Encountering some masterpieces, I loudly cheered.
In the website, I paste my works of poetic nature.
My aim is to keep the quintessence of Chinese culture.
Chinese paintings & calligraphy about all Charles Wu's poems
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You