Down the Western Hill, di Bruce Lee

Bruce Lee

Down the Western Hill

Down the Western hill the bright sun sinks

Making yellow gold of all the air.

On a lonely hilltop, away from the distant mist,

A golden dragon stands staring, with

Dreams that fade and die in the bright West.

#AmericanWriters

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Altre opere di Bruce Lee...

The Frost

Young man, Seize every minute Of your time. Thedays fly by; Ere long you too

Once More I Hold You in my Arms

Once more I hold you in my arms; And once more I lost myself in A paradise of my own. Right now you and I are in A golden boat drifting freely on a…

Since You Left

The sun sets low in the west; The farewell song is over; We are separating. Leaning on the sandalwood oar I g… Far away, the sky.

For a Moment

For a moment The surrounding utters no sound. Time ceases. The paradise of dreams come true.

Rain

Rain, Black clouds, Fallen blossoms and pale moon, The hurried flight of birds The arrival of lonely autumn

Parting

Who knows when meeting shall ever… It might be for years or It might be forever. Let us then take a lump of clay, Wet it, pat it,

Our Togetherness Is Like a Sweet Dream

Our togetherness is like a sweet d… Too sweet, too bitter sweet, Whose awakening should have been i… And now like a dream you will vani… And only in dream can we chance to…

It Is Spring

It is spring, And somewhere in the night A lute is playing. It sings of youth and joy, And love.

The Humming Bird

Rays spring from the East like pu… The humming bird begins his flight… Happily he flies through the purpl… Looking for the lovely pink rose. On the mountain peak,

Walking Along the Bank of Lake Washington

The breeze on the bank Already blows cool and mild; The distant merging of lake and sk… Is but a red trace of sunset. The deep silence of the lake,

Night Rain

I sit through the long night In the high tower, And listen to the autumn rain Outside my window. There is no sound of human life,

All Streams Flowing East or West

All streams flowing East or West Must flow into the sea; The current from the middleland Sweeps by the lonely island. Gold and silver pebbles mingle,

The Dying Sun

The dying sun lies sadly in the fa… The autumn wind blows mercilessly; The yellow leaves fall. From the mountain peak, Two streams parted unwillingly,

The Falling Leaf

The wind is in high frolic with th… Outside the garden a little yellow… Clinging desparately to its mother… I pick up the leaf And put it in the book,

The Silent Flute

I wish neither to possess, Nor to be possessed. I no longer covet paradise, More important, I no longer fear… The medicine for my suffering

Bruce Lee