Category: 文学

By Louise Glück, the laureate of Nobel Prize in literature 2020

When does the moon become bright?

When will the spring flowers and autumn moon come to an end?
So much memory of the past overwhelmed my brain
Yesterday night, the east wind blew over the petite pavilion again
In bright moonlight, I can not recall the late homeland without pain
The carved rails and jade stairs should remain
but the beauty’s face will not be the same
May I ask, how much sorrow you contain?
Just like the spring water running to the orient