A whiff of wind,
which could have blown through the pine forest
for thousands of years
Cranes landing on branches
decorated with snow,
even in midsummer

Scent of pine,
full of fragrance,
representing the motto and
principle of a scholar

Turning along a lone lane,
paralleled by a stone wall and
leisurely curved

Fields of gourd flowers are seen
on every thatched roof of straw,
flowers moon-shone like the white collar
of my sister’s traditional dress