To Richard Cory
The townspeople hail thy presence,
A gentleman spick-and-span from sole to crown.
They hopefully hold thee in great reverence,
As if thy soft-spoken words should light up the town.
In a fine-looking surface thou stand in the center;
In a sweet-sounding voice thou speak amid the folk.
Admiration and education of secularity glitter;
Prosperity and wealth with temporality talk.
No one hears the king in the golden rim;
Solitude attacks thy heart extremely hard in the roar.
No one heeds the wings of riches meeting the whim;
Material possession flees far off the surf-tormented shore.
The destination of life lolls upon the wave;
The rottenness of hope levels out the tree.
The rosemary nods upon the grave,
And the knell of vanity tolls for thee.
First Frost, 2011
—— Yukikaze Studio ~ Department of Solemn Men, Metrosexual Yuan ——
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