In the autumn of fifteen years ago, under the maple tree, we didn't know each other, but we were entangled for life.
Fifteen years later, in the autumn, under the maple trees, we talked to each other, but we couldn't stay together.
Love is always so illusory and ethereal, coming quietly when you don't know it, and missing the opportunity when you understand it.
The fog hides the frost, the moon is cool by the river, and the clear bamboos are three inches away, and the fragrance is secretly visiting.