The fish in the pond return to the deep, the smoke from the cooking stove calls for children, and travelers travel together.
The soft sound of the setting sun kissing the ground divides the day and night.
So, the tired bird that threw itself into the forest was like a poet's burning poem manuscript, carrying the bloody flames of the setting sun back home.
The boy I like comes from the sky,
He had no intention of overturning the candle,
But it ignites the twilight in my eyes.
Purpose: redemption