Dressed in Red Like Water

A peach blossom breaks the spring, only the wind knows the weight of lovesickness What cannot be carried away by running water cannot be carried away. April has already taken steps forward, and all the new words are coming to mind Can't say anything, those indescribable sounds In March, in whose name can I hold up the endless drizzle? The wet little emotion seems to have never thought about landing Relaxing my daughter's thoughts on a cloud As for the other one. It's an embrace that cannot be opened That back is light and airy, giving the wind a not-too-sad name