Dear, if I die first, I shall become a cloud to protect you from the sun.
In the spring when he was fifteen years old, he was sleeping soundly on a bed made of flowers.
In the autumn when he was fifteen years old, he was smiling amid the yellowing leaves.
Ten years later, at the end of winter, a promise that can never be fulfilled.
If we live together in the future, come here. Facing the mountains, build a hut, waiting for the fragrance of the soil in spring; waiting for the gurgling water in summer; waiting for the golden color everywhere in autumn; waiting for the silver color all over the mountains in winter. Our destiny is connected and will never be separated. If I leave before you, I will turn into the breeze to tell you the news of the arrival of spring, and turn into floating clouds to block you from the fierce sunshine in summer...
Blurred vision, tiny words, directionless echo, a sea of snow...
Intention: