from one of my favorite poems.
The leaves fall early this autumn, in wind.
The paired butterflies are already yellow with August
Over the grass in the West garden;
They hurt me. I grow older.
If you are coming down through the narrows of the river Kiang,
Please let me know beforehand,
And I will come out to meet you
As far as Cho-fu-Sa.
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2 comments:
yeah, i think of that poem every time i see a pair of butterflies.
Why think you of autumn in the glory of summer, dear?
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