shinkamilyn-sakonma:

Lonely bones can’t sleep at nights.
Singing insects keep calling them, calling them.
And the old have no tears.
When they sob, autumn weeps dewdrops. 

Memories crowding thickening sorrow.
Demons and gods fill my frail ears,
so blurred and faint I can’t tell them apart.
Year-end leaves, dry rain falling, scatter.
Though my bitter chant still makes a poem,
I’m withering white autumn

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A play on words, inspired by the mistranslation of

白秋 , and Meng Chiao’s poem “Autumn Thoughts“. I found the poem it very fitting ;; A bit too much in fact (for TG chapters 138 and 139).