Vương Thanh

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“Reading poetry in the night, one then understood how cold the moonlight can be”. Is it because the Lady Moon also feels for the loneliness of the life of a human being – infinitesimally small like a speck of dust in this earthly world, lonely like a wandering star in the vast universe, ephemeral like a flower blooming in the morning, fading by night, in the no-beginning, no-ending stream of Time.  “In the morning, hair like green silk, by evening, becomes snow.”  Youth is like the shadow of a galloping horse passing by the door, never to return. Of the human fate:  life’s full of partings, and upon death: a forever goodbye.
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