synagogue stained glass windows
Autumn mists roll across the lake, as if a dust of Jade had been spread over the flowers, and their scent is gone. The withered lotus leaves will soon float on the lake waters. My heart is weary, and I come to this beautiful place of rest, for I need solace: I weep much in my loneliness. Autumn lasts too long in my heart: Sun of Love, will you never shine and dry away my bitter tears?
—after Qian Qi