outland poetry
day
黎明
Somhairle Mac Gill-Eain
You are the dawn of library forest hills,
Clara on the peak day,
Lazy rivers golden sun,
The horizon of a white rose.
The sun shining white sail in the harbor,
The blue sea, golden days,
Young morning in your hair,
In your white cheeks.
Dawn of the treasure, the night of the treasures,
Your face and your good intentions,
A disaster like the gray vertical stakes
Pierce the young morning of my chest.
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