Love, Lost in the Summer of 22

Just like that, midnight came I fell into a dream again The moving gray mist crying cold wind withered forgetwort The river is frozen, and the ice reflects the silvery moonlight. I stood on it, looking for the little turtle The ice water soaked my straw sandals and my feet lost all feeling. I forgot that it is already winter here, what should wither has already withered, what should rot has already rotted, and what should die will never wake up again. I looked at the red dress I was wearing, the red dress I wore specially to meet him, and I remembered his expression when he said it looked beautiful in the summer. Then I cried, I knew I would never find the little turtle again