讓人困惑的早晨微光遲遲不來。
風趁著天色還昏暗未明，它經過窗前
似有若無地說道:
心是個變動的常數。
我被迫回憶一切所學的知識而猶豫起來，
猶豫著如果世界只是一個虛擬幻相？
猶豫著半小時後的咖啡餘溫算是什麼？
(*The following is an English translation of the poem)
Hesitation
A perplexing morning, where the faint light arrives far too late.
The wind, as the sky remains dim and undefined, passes by the window, whispering almost imperceptibly:
The heart is a constant in flux.
I am compelled to recall every piece of knowledge I’ve acquired,
hesitating—wondering if the world is nothing more than a virtual illusion?
Hesitating—questioning what the lingering warmth of coffee half an hour later even means?
