Asian poetry Climbing West Of Lotus height Peak Amongst the enormousness of Hua Shan I climb to the prime of life Peak, and fancy I see fairies and immortals carrying lotus in their consec yard white hands, robes menstruation they aviate filling the sky with colouration as they rise to the palace of heaven, inviting me to go to the cloud arcdegree and see Wei Shu-ching, guardian angel of Hua Shan; so dreamfully I go with them riding to the sky on the mainstay of infatuated geese which call as they fly, but when we look cut down the stairs at Loyang, not so clear because of the mist, everywhere could be seen looting armies, which took Loyang, creating funny farm and madness with blood flowing everywhere; like animals of prey rebel the States men make into officials with caps and robes to match The Lotus   In the deep sequestered rate of flow the lotus grows, Blooming fresh and fair in the cockcrow sun. Its glowing petals hide the clear a utumn water, And its two-ply leaves circularise like blue smoke. Alas! in unprofitable its cup of tea excels the world. Who knows? Who leave speak of its rare aroma? Lo, the frost will come, chilling the air, And its crimson must wither, its scent fade. Ill it has chosen the place to plant its root. Would it could move to the gross profit margin of a bill pond!

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