Author Meng Jiao 欲上千级阁,问天三四言。未尺数十登,心目风浪翻。手手把惊魄,脚脚踏坠魂。却流至旧手,傍掣犹欲奔。老病但自悲,古蠹木万痕。老力安可夸,秋海萍一根。孤叟何所归,昼眼如黄昏。常恐失好步,入彼市井门。结僧为亲情,策竹为子孙。此诚徒切切,此意空存存。一寸地上语,高天何由闻。 Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments