The falling leaves were Sound and Sound Slow
remembered when the tips of the willow branches were green and butterflies danced
she smiled in the plum forest
The rolling dew Drop and Drop of Gold
look for the bones of the plum blossoms where the spring returned
I followed the willow rhyme obsessed
West Lake often drank the emerald green
thirty percent moonlight and the running water under the Broken Bridge
I must prepare wine first to reward my friends
South Ridge was also flying red
an easterly and sunset glows at the secluded ferry
I must recite poems for inviting my guests