Snowy Night and Roses

This is a real dream of mine I had a two-hour dream at the border of snow and roses, but in the dream it seemed as if half a century had passed. In the dream, I walked between the icy blue and fiery red halos, my fingertips touched the frost flowers that never melted, and my shoulders took on a strange yet familiar temperature. The cold wind in the capital has taken shape, carving out the mist at the gate of the nursing home, the majestic silhouette of the cultural city, and a name glowing in the snow. The dream was too real. So much so that I remember the edges and corners of every snowflake, the gray and white plaid texture on her scarf, and the trembling of two hearts getting closer in the empty world when the hail struck the glass. I even felt real heartbeat and pain for the clumsy and brave me in the dream. A dream is just a dream after all. No matter how much I believed in the real feeling of palm-to-palm contact, no matter how the light of the two-color roses flickered in my mind night after night - when the alarm clock rang in the morning, I still had to get up and walk towards the day, which was completely different from the dream and was ordinary and boring. So, I leave the dream to you and the words. May you preserve for me the snowy capital, preserve that encounter across the winter night, and preserve all the romantic and useless sincerity that cannot be placed in the waking world. Dreams will fade, but stories will remain crystal clear forever. Just like I will always remember, in a winter that never existed, I embraced the starlight of an entire world in the heavy snow without any reservation. ——To me who will never come again, snowy night and roses.