In the dark night, watching the little fires flickering on and off, watching the curls of smoke rolling up and down like the flowing clouds in the sky, I recalled to some extent the days when flowers bloomed and fell, the days when the wind blew, the days when the snow fell, the days when we were together, and then I told myself sternly not to look back. The past is gone, like a dusty memory, but in reality, the days will pass by day by day, flowing like calm glacial water in winter, although the future is lonely.
Conception: