Remembering the covered walkway in the old green lane, I glimpse her beneath the white plum tree, fingers brushing the strings. The golden notes still linger, then suddenly turn into a splendid nightmare…
Only when warm blood stains my eyes do I realize that all these years of so-called persistence were no more than moonlight reflected in water, flowers seen in a mirror. What I was chasing all along were those fleeting moments of warmth…
With a graceful turn, she writes of the Goddess of the Luo River. Know that a faint smile holds deep meaning, and that Heaven bestowed upon her all the springtime's loveliness...
She veils her quiet sorrow and wraps herself in a soft cloak against the chill, embracing her slender shadow on the fragrant grass. Unable to resist, she steps into the drifting dust of fragrance...
Lala~~Come on