One's Pondering

GDC Inspired Poems (IV)

Arrival in mounds of Yunmeng,

The whispers run about.

Only to be approached by three flowers,

Laughter comes from up above.

Bright and warm like the sun,

Catching the attention of the moon.

It longs to be besides you.

Hundreds of different roads,

All converge into one at the end.

The waning of the ever lonesome moon.

Drawing the sweet fragrance of the wine.

Searching after your imprints,

It is long and dreary.

With a hundred of steps between us,

You took the first,

Following with the second,

Watching as you get closer,

Couldn't help but reach out, 

Suddenly, you scatter...

Disappearing the moment of contact.

Overwhelming emotions swirl,

The walk in the moonlight,

Can't overshadow the feelings inside.

The imaginary calls of your voice,

Like that of a sweet hymn

Is Nothing but an illusion.

To sustain the delusion,

Always seemingly waiting for that call once more,

That has long been silenced.

A single frost covered flower that awaits,

For the return of the warm green willow.

All that it took was for a single drop,

To set off the waves that rippled.

Those eyes that holds many words,

Thinking of the past in which can only be dreams now.

By the gates engraved with the words in which you scorn,

Reminiscing about the simple days.

Unable to move.

Branded in his heart as well as above it.

The wind pushing slightly,

The dim sun in the presence of twilight.

In the walls of Gusu,

Walking step by step into the memories.

The days filled with laughter and chaos,

Enveloping like the morning mist.

The raindrops shaking the leaves,

All that it took was for a single drop,

To set off the waves that rippled.

Following the footprints left behind in the snow,

From his craze, chasing after a scent that faintly lingers.

Like the curve of the crescent moon,

It appeared on his frosty lips, soft and gentle.

Unforgettable, the high noon sun

Soaking up in the sky above.

The clear day glistens,

The scent of ylang ylang is fragrant.

Warm and inviting, the two entwines

Past the hour of nine.

One silent in slumber

as the other one looks on.

The voice that had been quiet

starts to sing once more.

Warm and inviting, the two entwines

Past the hour of nine.

The blooming flowers on one's chest

Matches with the scar of the other.

One cold as the western winds

and the other as warm as the eastern winds.

Warm and inviting, the two entwines

Past the hour of nine.