Drizzle and Breeze

I once thought that if I held the cicada, I could hold the whole summer. But then, the cicada told me, don't hold the cicada if you don't like it. I said: I know, I know. The cicada does not move and meditates, claiming to know it. The monkey does not become a prince, but it can realize enlightenment. That year, the cicada's chirping was very long, so long that I thought the summer would never end. I said to the cicada: Goodbye, wait until the summer wind blows next year. The cicada said to me: Goodbye, I will see you again in the next life. Look at what I said: See you next year, but the cicada promised me the next life. I was talking about next year's wind. He heard it as the light of the next life, but the cicada's sound remains the same every year, and the sound is not that of an old friend. The wind I have been waiting for for the rest of my life may have finished blowing when I said goodbye. Cicadas don't understand the next year, and I don't understand the next life. In our own time, we finally paid this summer wrong. Today's cicadas and wind will become that moment that can never be returned. The wind is still blowing, and the cicadas are still chirping in summer, but today's people hear it.