He had a dream, in which the eternal bells rang, and in the river of life, such scenery had become an illusion and void.
What he experienced, felt, cried out, and thought about was difficult to distinguish between true and false, like death or life.
He never disappoints, never stops, never sees clearly.
"We stand in a dream, on which lies long, and our destiny is in the long night, suffering and crying."
She had asked, was it all real, was it exactly mourned?
The voice that cannot be seen clearly, the picture that cannot be heard, the soul that cannot be held are always telling
"Please don't forget me"
Intent: mourning for the most beautiful things in people's hearts