Ten years between life and death, both dim and distant. I do not think of you, yet I cannot forget. A lonely grave thousands of miles away, with no one to share my sorrow. Even if we met again, you would not know me: my face is worn, my temples frosted white. In the night, a dream takes me back to my hometown. By the little window, you are combing your hair. We look at each other without a word, with only a thousand lines of tears. I know where heartbreak will find me year after year: beneath the moon, on the low pine-covered hill.
Power, desire, love: which matters most to you? The clever are drawn to one another, struggle against each other, and use each other. Who will be the true winner in this game of chess...?
