Winter Soul Modern Poetry

Sunshine is the soul of dreams

On top of the white snow

There is a skylark, looking for its way back

A bow of longing

Retaining the moonlight

The hot heart of the fire

A glass of wine

How

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That mountain, that day

That mountain is the mountain of Mongolia

That day is the sky of Mongolia

A few short poplars

The sky painted with blue ink

The sun hits the face

Traveling through

Traveling through the tunnel of time

Sleeping

Sleeping in the arms of mother

Walking in the snow

Listening to a sound

On the beating strings of the guzheng

In the ocean of love

This is the quietest place

One step, two steps

Three steps

Run

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