A modern poem called White Swan (essay)

You are an arrogant swan

That year, er, That year

there was a snowstorm

there was no harvest joy

there was no dry food and companionship

at the foot of the sunset, you used a folding fan to stir up the wind

you used a goose feather pen to draw it out in the spring of next year

I look forward to having you in the spring of next year

I hope you will have spring in the coming year

You like the flowers in spring

. > You are a swan that cherishes feathers

But, er, but

But the old scenery is hurt

There is no enchanting scenery

There are no mountains and running water

The night is dim

You are knitting feather clothes in that small village

Thinking about the swing under the feather in a warm wind

Blessing you on the swing in the village

Pray for you to have a swing.