The rain in spring always carries a hazy poetry. When the flowers first bloomed that year, we met unexpectedly in the moist wind. The raindrops tap on the window of the heart, turning the first throbbing into a scenery that will never fade. In the long years since, every time I think of "it happened to be that early spring", I seem to have touched the tenderness of the raindrops at that time.
Intention: With his arrival, she ushered in a new spring