張大春的部落格

The wind so ill from wilderness that batters upon

the flowerson the hill,
Rocking the house violently that it can hardly stand still.
My aged dog has somehow lost its will, food and drink

itdoes not take,

With languid post, no barking sound on guests at dim

night would it make.

Be there ever herbs but a few feet away on the tree growing,
Thru’ holes on broken wall can be seen where leaves falling,
It is but too weak to smell and seek

For that miraculous cure which does ever exist.

To the mouse and cat it abandons the garden ground,
In its dull stare they roam around with pardon newly found.
The nose is dried and the bone is weak, it lives in a dream
floating,
Its buoyant character has gone like its soul in sleep missing.
After nine long days it does finally awake, when a false note
of spring
The chaotic season in warm winter does ring;
Vivacious life from warm winter the spirited nature does bring,
Gently, the dog turns around to watch the day and night
changing.