The breeze rippled on the grassy coast, through the night, and blew to my still mast. The endless plains are dotted with drooping stars. The moon runs with the river.
I hope my art can bring me fame and liberate my sick old age from the office! . Flying around, what am I like? But sandpipers in the vast world! .
Appreciation: This poem was written by the author during his wandering. Through the description of the magnificent scene of the stars changing into illusions and the moon surging in the night walk, the author expresses his feelings of being in trouble and drifting.
I remember this song.