"The tiger is sniffing the rose, one strong and one soft, but they are so blended. Therefore, it is as hard as cold stone, but there is still a weak lotus in its heart." Those youthful years are like roses in my heart, and the accumulated emotions are like a grown tiger. I dare not let it out easily for fear of hurting the delicate rose. The tenderness of my sweetheart is like the softest spring grass, teasing my heart. The tenderness is like rippling water, and like a sail gradually being filled by the wind. There is a Zen poem that describes youth as just right, "the flowers are not fully blooming and the moon is not full." There is still room for perfection in everything.