[A little angsty at first, then super sweet, with a happy ending. A treat for the girls]
Alas, the spring breeze knew nothing of the cherry blossoms' meaning. After the stream had risen three feet, all it carried away were broken branches and fallen leaves. They say the stars paint the eyes, and the bright moon is like jade beneath the water, but the hands shielding the pupils cannot grasp the tiny specks of dust in the universe. The bamboo basket that can hold all things has only scooped up shattered reflections of flowers in the mirror. How laughable. All that we mortals can imagine, all that immortals can reach, is at most a golden dream before a young man, weary of the mortal world, falls asleep.
May we meet at the far end of the world, hold hands, and grow old together.
