Red Bean Bun
There are no clouds in the night sky.
The flute harmonizes with the zither only for a string to break.
A red bean bun and wine.
Slowly munching on the red bean bun, memories are revisited.
In a dazed mind -
People singing, laughing, dancing and celebrating,
but the person is alone.
A thick sweetness resides, where sour pangs make their way through one's heart.
There are no stars in the night sky.
A sword pierces through the heavens,
Towards extreme tribulation, yet the sky is still so clear.
The earth is grey.
The breeze brings with it the air of reminiscence.
A bright moon twinkles conspicuously in the night...
- Thinking of home
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