Some things always feel beautiful when viewed through glass. Maybe the dust of time will cover the luster of the glass, and it will wander around in the cycle of thousands of years, but that thing will eventually be protected and remain unchanged for thousands of years.
The flowers are falling, scattering their fragrance.
Fireworks fall, leaving no trace in the sky.
Time flies, and someone rides the wind to another space.
For three thousand years, people shuttle in the river, and they will eventually wake up from the dreamy night of splendor.
Who is this dream for?