Scenery of a Pond Lies In Between Tow Seasons

one drowsy day’s afternoon by a pond where green leafy reeds swaying in a breeze the sun enjoys a nap enveloped in a halo, the own glory on the gentle weaves a water strider gliding on the water with his long legs; on a reed leaf a dragonfly sat atop of it and puts the pieces of broken sky into his eyes larger than the sky to draw a picture of complete sky the shirr chirrup of a cicada carried by the wind comes by the pond searching a shade of a tree, but when he couldn’t find a one other than the slender reeds stand by the everything-standstill pond, flies away grumbling “no matter how desperate i am, i cannot sing a song hanging on a petty reed! it’s an insult, it’s a disgrace to my reputation” then the time, i wonder what’s made him so happy, attired with all colorful patches of silk pieces garment comes whistling and wanders in the fields and mountains that is covered only a color of deep green; and dyes it with spray of all imaginable colors you can think of: before being sprayed colors were dry a hotheaded wind makes an abrupt appearance, letting colorful leaves ahead of him to raise a fuss once again in the woods calm and peaceful surprised by the commotion the birds fly away, the crickets fill up a vacancy and collect leaves named decay in the wood; tossing ashes after burning them in the lowly hanging evening glow and long night’s chilling air and as chilling air becomes dew the crickets wail forth dirges followed by the lonely reeds cry, then the season stained with so many mixed emotions drift away with the cloud; and as the night deepens the stars fall, the moonlight reflecting on the water glimmers, a piece of wind torn by the wind behind goes stepping on the mountainside path lifting a fluttering funeral streamer