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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/e164053711a4377dc0e403ac7bae3ebb.mp3
点击复制He waits for wind to tilt the frame
Not chasing light but greeting flame;
Each leaf becomes a transient thought
Each second worth the years it brought
The lens accepts the world’s disguise
Transforms a tear to sunrise eyes;
No need to freeze what time will mend
He captures means not means to end
A maple bends the shutter speaks
The stillness moves the instant peaks;
Creation happens in the pause
Where awe forgets its own applause
Later alone he cleans the glass
Lets quiet through the edges pass;
The art remains where breath was kept—
A memory that softly slept