I saw her curved brows and eyes, clear and dustless, but I didn't know where she was. She was far and near, right in front of my eyes and at the edge of the horizon. It seems to be separated by thousands of mountains and rivers, thousands of years.
Aruo, Aruo. As time goes by for tens of thousands of years, who has turned into a little pain in the palm of my hand, turned into a dream between forgetfulness and memory, with only the red clothes flying and the sound of the piano clear and distant.