I don't like the spring when everything revives, nor the bright and fiery summer, nor the autumn when the golden breeze brings coolness. I like the cold winter at the end of the year. I like all lonely things, just like me, dark and lonely.
With your arrival, I suddenly realized that the spring seemed very charming. I became fascinated by the dazzling redbud trees and the nameless white flowers on the roadside. I began to indulge in every moment of spring.
I don't understand the reason for this change. Later, your departure ruthlessly took away the spring beauty, leaving me with the darkness behind the direct sunlight in summer.
Until this moment, I realized that you are my spring, and your turning around took away my only ray of spring.
I was strolling on the road carelessly, and heard the rose kissing the wind, and the wind gently left a sentence:
"Goodbye, my spring."
Or rather, Farewell, Mon printemps.
[Both the protagonists have prototypes, and some plots are adapted from real stories. ]
Intention: Guess