"The blood is flowing, the maples are as quiet as resentment; the silver feathers are falling, the snow is dancing like flames..." The clear and dusty singing voice is accompanied by a snow-white figure, floating and swirling in the red maple forest all over the mountain. A naughty touch makes the red leaves bloom into their most splendid beauty. The bright red is as charming as the last rays of the setting sun. Even if I miss you in every possible way, it will still pass away with the wind.