I am already on another distant bench
Bare tree trunks in winter in cities further north
The occasional remaining leaf veins are still clear
It's like your cold face is still clearly visible
It's still snowing heavily in this winter
I still walked alone into the depths of the snow without saying a word.
Maybe it's just that there is one less person willing to accompany me without hesitation
Maybe it's just that there's a missing set of footprints spreading along with my footprints
But I still can only look up at the sky all the time
If the white moon were as bright as the snow that year
Maybe sometimes I bow my head, sometimes I'm silent, sometimes I miss you secretly
Sometimes I smile, sometimes I feel grateful, sometimes I sing
What he sings is a tuneless song.
It sings about a lifetime of melancholy that cannot be cried out
When I finally stand at the end of the transition between years and youth
But in the end, I found that my memory was still a vast expanse of blue, gray, and white snow.
Is it loneliness or melancholy?
Have you always refused to forget it?
It feels like nothing has changed
It snowed heavily that year and winter was not yet young