His body has the shadow cast by the birch trees in the moonlight
like a flock of sad birds
Wake up in the middle of the night and sing love
But never on earth
——
A short story, some trivial fragments of love
*For specific emotional context, you can click on the column to read another article "The Moth", especially the extra "The Death of the Swan". The background is different, but this article can be regarded as an extension of "The Moth"
*The text is based on Akhmatova's "I was born at the right time..."
Concept: Dewy world
