April 06th, 2020
At dawn I left the mountain,
And alone, lost my way;
In and out, up and down,
While a heavy mist made brook
And mountain green and purple
I passed pines and oaks which ten
People could not circle.
I tread pebbles barefoot in swift moving
Water, its ripples purify the ear,
While a soft breeze blew.
What if I spent my old age here,
And never went back home? Han Yu