. . . Like ashes of gold in a cinnamon-flame,My youthful desires have been burnt with the years– And tonight in the chil — Haoran Meng

. . . Like ashes of gold in a cinnamon-flame,My youthful desires have been burnt with the years– And tonight in the chil — Haoran Meng

. . . Like ashes of gold in a cinnamon-flame,My youthful desires have been burnt with the years– And tonight in the chil — Haoran Meng

. . . Like ashes of gold in a cinnamon-flame,My youthful desires have been burnt with the years– And tonight in the chil — Haoran Meng

. . . Like ashes of gold in a cinnamon-flame,My youthful desires have been burnt with the years– And tonight in the chil — Haoran Meng

. . . Like ashes of gold in a cinnamon-flame,My youthful desires have been burnt with the years– And tonight in the chilling sunset-windA cicada, singing, weighs on my heart.

— Haoran Meng

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age ashes cicada desires gold heart loneliness melancholy sunset youth