Gold Panning
After a thousand years’tracing
through the rustling leaves falling in autumn wind
eventually I’ve approached your violet prime
While a golden smile is still lingering on your face
I turn into a gentle breeze and fly into your smile
The scent of lavender lingers with me
I’ve set my mind on here to build my home
I make an inventory of the pervasive gold
planning to set up a splendid palazzo
Yet why has the golden ore suddenly turned into a coalfield?
And here also comes a flood and it rolls me over
I climb ashore wringing the clothing of dream
forgetting to listen to the sighs from your deep soul
In fact I ought rather to have turned into a handkerchief
to kiss away your salty tears
rather than being a gold digger
sweeping over the gold from your violet years