Splash Ink into Painting

In late autumn and dusk rain, a woman was watching her sweetheart leave in the attic. She said, "I don't write because I am sad about separation," but what I wrote was all about his facial features. The rain wets the splashed ink scroll and also wets the mind. She drank all the wine that night and wanted to forget the sight of her turning back, but her tenderness had already been engraved in her life. After that, every year after that, she still played and sang old songs in the attic, waiting for someone who would never come back.