THE oleander on the wall
Grows crimson in the dawning light,
Though the grey shadows of the night
Lie yet on Florence like a pall.
The dew is bright upon the hill,
And bright the blossoms overhead,
But ah! the grasshoppers have fled,
The little Attic song is still.
Only the leaves are gently…
Ahh…. I could just listen to this all day…
But then I would remember what happened to the Master, Sammo, and Yuan a-and then…
literally took 3 months to finish this project. unacceptable.