endless roses

Chapter 7

It was a moonlit night many years ago, on the roof of my grandmother's house, my father and I were four years old talking poetry.

"I don't know the moon when I'm young, what about the next sentence?" Ming Fu asked.

"Suddenly make a white jade plate."

"That's right, this poem is about Meier, you were ignorant when you were a child, and you used the moon as a white jade plate."

"I didn't stay that way."

"You follow me, smart. If you want something to drink, Dad will go down and get it now."

"Orange juice."

My father left, and I just sat obediently and watched the moonlight, lost in thought.

"Here." Father handed over a bowl, and he had one in his hand, and said, "Today I'll teach you a new song, but it's a bit difficult."

It's the head of Dongpo's water melody song, and it's quite a long one.

"Why recite the sequence?" I asked.

"This is also part of the poem, of course."

"Ah, too many."

(End of this chapter)