Bruce Lee

The Dying Sun

The dying sun lies sadly in the far horizon.
The autumn wind blows mercilessly;
The yellow leaves fall.
From the mountain peak,
Two streams parted unwillingly,
 
One to the West, one to the East.
The sun will rise again in the morning.
The leaves will be green again in spring.
But must we be like the mountain stream,
Never to meet again?
Piaciuto o affrontato da...
Altre opere di Bruce Lee...



Alto