He thought that he could recite poems and make tea for a lifetime, just for one person.
He thought that his waiting was like a lighthouse, attracting ships, but they only followed the soft bay.
He thought that he could give everything he had, but what he wanted to give was abandoned.
Ordinary sentient beings are just a miss, passing through the mirror, flowers and water, it is laughter.
I sigh in vain, the remaining light is hidden and leaking, the situation is dewy and gorgeous. What remains are a few feelings of sadness and a few worries.