A gust of wind, the last drop of rain under the eaves at midnight, dazzling with the wind, bidding farewell to the comfort of attachment, bidding farewell to the persistence of dripping water wearing through stone, for the long-cherished wish that belongs to you and me. The wind lingers and the rain ripples, where you are, there is the fragrance of birds and flowers. Even if life comes to an end, the rain will eventually turn into floating clouds to accompany you through all lives, a vow that never changes. Fly, fly, let us drift, drift together.
A gust of wind, a desolate scene of fallen leaves, disheveling your hairdo, that lonely skirt dancing gracefully, a moment of brilliance, a touch of attachment, turning into the rain of longing. The rain dampens one’s face, yet it cannot unfold the countenance full of melancholy. Once upon a time, it dispersed your dreams of many years, yet you remain unchanged, pursuing, pursuing. He never gave you hope, why indulge in reverie, dreams will eventually be scattered by the wind.
A gust of wind, leaves falling and drifting, she is the last withered leaf, you dance gently with her, yet leave her in the corner, where she weeps alone. The vast sea cannot lock the butterfly, if not for a lifetime, why give her a colorful dream. Just as I am not your left hand, you are not my right, yet we have given beauty. Watching the ripples in the sea for her dream, listening to the wind singing a half-life fate, the wind still lingers. For her. For the dream of a cigarette, why do you rejoice? May you be like a lotus in the water, most watching the blue sea dance with fragrant dust.