welcome

I'd LIKE

SHow MY

little world

with you .1

little world

1B E A ' C H

T R A'V E L3

W ' I TH

DEM ,20

14

SEP

,201

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B E A ' C H

T R A'V E LYehliu GeoparkLongluan Lake

W ' I TH

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Cra

b

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SUMMERLAST THE

our ourselvesNothiNg will be goNNa chaNge

Dear FrieNDsDo you remember that summer time

this memory it's all

belong to

h' e

rmit C

rab

Find the best momentof life.

to makeeach daycount /

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In spring of youth To haunt of the wide world a spot

The which I could not love the less —So lovely was the loneliness

Of a wild lake, with black rock bound,And the tall pines that towered around.

THE

in that poisonous wave,And in its gulf a fitting grave

For him who thence could solace bringTo his lone imagining —

Whose solitary soul could makeAn Eden of that dim lake.

Death was

TREE O/FLIFE

I think that i shall never seen,A poem lovely as a tree.A tree whose hungry mouth is prest.Against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

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And lifts her leafy arms to pry;A tree that may in summer wear,a nest of robins in her hair;Upon whose bosom snow has lain;who intimately lives with rain.Poems are made by fools like me,but only god can make a tree.

A' N DFLOWER

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PLANTKadoorie Farm, Hong Kong

Nanyuan Farm, Taiwan

DEM ,20

14

APR

,201

5

14

t r u t hn e e d s n o c o l o r

b e a u t yn e e d s n o p e n c i l

A /N /D

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t r u t hn e e d s n o c o l o r

b e a u t yn e e d s n o p e n c i l

S P R I N GSpring is when you feel

like whistling even with a shoe full of slush.—— Doug Larson

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S U M M E RSummer is sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines and often is his gold complexion dimmed,but thy eternal summer shall not fade.

—— William Shakespeare

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AU T U M NAnd yellow leaves of autumn,

which have no songs,flutter and fall there with a sigh.

—— Rabindranath Tagore

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W I N T E RSweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,my spirit! Be thou me,

impetuous one! Drive my dead thoughts over the universe.—— Percy Bysshe Shelley

LILY25

FLOWER

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p L U M blossomA heaven in a plum blossom,And eternity in an hour.

Flower

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m y HONEYBEEBY M I C H E A L

d i c k m a n

Crying in the cosmos that doesn’t sound like youCrying in our armsIn the cosmos in ourarmsMissile static and afterburn in the petalsYour yellow-and-black stingersA child’s drawingSome riddle from before we were born that sounds like a river and spreads on toastAnd floatsFrom flower toFlowerThe first needleThe honey in the potI have always wantedTo wake up surroundedBy buzz andfuzzMy head lifted by a furry crown set sailing into the latedrone afternoon drifting at the speed of soundMy mouth full of strange sunlightKiller bumble honeyin the brain

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LIGHTDARKA' ND

The light that plays, like a naked child, among the green leaves happily know not that man can lie,however long the night, the dawn will break,Lead me, my Guide, before the light fades, into the valley of quiet where life's harvest mellows into golden wisdom.

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thank you