A gust of wind blows across the cold sea;
White clouds from above mask the land;
The monsoons take away every grain of sand.
The ever-changing warm and cold seasons...
What a vibrant life...
with withered traces, slowly dissipating...
No forewarning, the tears of the clouds fall again.
The light of a match burns in the dark.
Maybe the unknown fate is unpredictable.
It flies like a meteor without knowing its purpose.
But I am willing to believe.
The smallest, weakest, softest and most fearless you.
I tried my best to respond.
No limit, no end, no solution!
There is still a thin line of hope!
Light up yourself!
Don't listen to the restless, bustling leaves hollering in the forest.
A smoky fog reappears.
This is the final story as I sit calmly in the lush pavilion.
Six hundred years have passed,
yet a grain of hope in the vast sea still remains!
An endless "wheel” spins tirelessly;
To rise above all illusions.
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