精華區beta poetry 關於我們 聯絡資訊
"A scorched field exhibited its dim body like charcoal. Son, your land it is?" "Yes. There was a big fire. The crops were burnt, relentlessly. Lost its fertility, the field remained this way for years." "You never tried to spread the seeds again?" "No. I will build a pretty mansion with this bag of coins; the final use of it it'd be. I fear the damaged place could not produce the grains so fine like 'twas before." "You've got to resurrect the land, to grow more crops to sell and to earn more coins; or how could you to build a 'mansion' with the bit? Save no seeds, and save no plow. The prime youth comes not twice. Your time is long, though bruised once. Seize the sun, reaching yet middle of the day." -- ※ 發信站: 批踢踢實業坊(ptt.csie.ntu.edu.tw) ◆ From: 211.74.245.10