attitude,isextrelyninallgoodesepoetry.so,forinstance,didlipo

valley.istillreerthelasttyfriechedin

iedpalace,

ihedecayoftheblae

taphorsintheelvesarenothing:thepoetrynsistsispreadinghis

andontheblackgoheevningsunisglowing,

e.

nonpeopleshos梬ithouttheirknowing.

thelastandstiortantpointistheiofnaturalobje

onluded

anddeadboredaretheflosideitsdoors.

taphors,like”idleflohesadhechafingsparroc.the

hereetyistheuntrypalace,etylikeadreainlonelinessandquietthered

hillside,hjustasiage,halldoorsclosedandasolitarypeachtreein

ofbeing”bored”todeath,.thesateique,orrather

isachieved,then,isapoeticfeelingforthepeachtree,supposedtobecapable

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threelelonggayandgreenoas”heartless”becausetheydid

noheredsparroing,

lateattipassedtheverdanthills,

hisnotebook:

thefarrupletothefieldshavegone,

not,astheyoughtto,reerhoudsharethepoetsfeelingofpoignant

regret.

ierialflo.soberidsarechatting.

sharehisople,he

fullblossotandingidlyinfront,apparentlyingitsfragrantgloryoed

aotions,notbydirectpersonificationbutbying

or,inoneofhisbestknos,drink

beginoneofhisbestpoe:

aainonfolloeho

houtoingintothedetailsoftheirdisurse:

etiohesotiontoliveand

eofthegreatilies:

andtheshewangandhsiehhalls,