Gatherer Tom Sharp

The waning moon hangs in the tung tree. The water clock stops late at night. In the night sometimes I see a figure walking and it’s unclear whether it has a shadow. I once knew a lonely man who shunned other people because he thought no one understood him. He wandered on cold nights hunched over to pick up sticks of firewood to keep others warm.

卜算子·黄州定慧院寓居作 苏轼

缺月挂疏桐，漏断人初静。 时见幽人独往来，缥缈孤鸿影。 惊起却回头，有恨无人省。 拣尽寒枝不肯栖，寂寞沙洲冷。