What I saw is extinguished, what disappears is remembered, I stand at the end of the world
Hear the germination of the soil, wait for the epiphyllum to bloom again, and leave the fragrance to the years.
There is no lighthouse on the other side, I still look around
It's dark, my hair has turned white, and I hold my torch tightly
Later, I said to myself, I am not afraid, I love him very much
--"Flowers from the Other Shore"