The first time he saw him was under the cherry tree with a gentle evening breeze. He was wearing a purple bathrobe, and his long black hair was flying in the wind. Accompanied by the dancing cherry blossom petals, the eyes of the flower beholder are drunk...
The first time he saw him was in the pavilion buried under the cherry tree. He was leaning against the window sill, his dazzling blond hair reflecting the light of the setting sun and shining brightly. As soon as I raise my glass, the sky will be filled with clouds...
Intention: