The season when the wind blows is my favorite air. I want to fly.
Enthusiasm, domineering enthusiasm and belief have never disappeared. Loneliness grows.
Suddenly, endless distant music sounded around me. It is the wind that sings, it is the heart that sings, it is the joyful lover, and it is the lover's confusion. Intangible to loneliness or hope. The only thing that flows is the flow that transcends everything. The only thing you love is love that lasts forever. Only the melodious ones are always melodious, and the cheerful ones are always joyful.
An ethereal breath emanates from the sea of clouds and mist. The whole world is mine. The clouds are mine, and the wind is mine.