Ki-Fong
A. de Polignac
The breeze is fanning my brow.
The trees are trembling like a pretty maiden who loves.
Little fishes bright dance and leap on the face of the lake.
And the lotus petals swiftly float down the river,
with sparkling gleaming butterflies tinted bright.
What would my wife say if she knew that I did not
go to work on this fine summer morning?