00:00/00:00
外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/2302d768e5f3eb7355b7d4e84fe3df22.mp3
点击复制A crimson thread against the snow
Marks where the travelers used to go;
A scarf left hanging by the breeze
Becomes a story no one sees
Perhaps a lover dropped it there
Perhaps a wish the wind would wear;
It dances now with ghostly pride
A flag of warmth the cold denied
I touch the fringe it hums of flame
Of holding close without a claim;
Some kindness left for who might need
An unnamed heart a quiet deed
When spring returns with tender rain
The scarf will fade but not in vain;
Its color taught the road below—
That loss can learn the art of glow