A Mayfly's Thousand Lifetimes

I would become that stone bridge,

enduring three hundred years of wind,

the wind like a blade, cutting my body but never severing my longing;

three hundred years beneath the sun,

the blazing sun scorching me, searing my soul but never burning away my deep love;

three hundred years of rain,

the cold rain beating down, soaking into my bones but never extinguishing my hope,

all for one more chance to see you.

At the Bridge of Helplessness, one bowl of Granny Meng's soup:

how could I forget my feelings for you?

At the Bridge of Helplessness, one bowl of Granny Meng's soup:

how could I forget my longing for you?

At the Bridge of Helplessness, one bowl of Granny Meng's soup:

how could I forget my true love for you?

At the Bridge of Helplessness, one bowl of Granny Meng's soup:

how could I give up my bold spirit?

At the Bridge of Helplessness, one bowl of Granny Meng's soup:

how could I give up waiting?