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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/1108ac433d52ee40c0d886c9ccda6005.mp3
点击复制A crimson ridge above the mist
Sends morning letters sunlight kissed;
Each fold of land a careful phrase
In ink of amber gold and glaze
I read the slopes like foreign text
Each shadow hinting what comes next;
No grammar rules the wild terrain
Yet meaning hums beneath the rain
The hillside teaches how to write
Not to persuade but to invite;
Its punctuation—stream and pine
Compose a script both yours and mine
When evening seals the valley blue
I send my silence back to you;
May every slope and echo tell
The words that waiting kept so well