Chronicles
A poor poet from Siberia VS a border guard from China
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You are the cold wind and blizzard in Siberia
Those melancholy eyes are like the clear Lake Baikal
Hot blood and cold wind, you break through the border
Coming out of the cold wind is not only your compassion, but also my sadness
The ice-like forest is finally mixed with the cedar trees
Your country is rising, but I can only watch my country mourn
[We commit crimes in summer and are punished in winter] - Chekhov's "The Cold"
Concept: Snow and blood coming in the cold wind
