the memory of my love
How maky you meet me,at the best time of my beauty.For this,I prayyed in front of buddha,for half of century.So buddha turned me into a blooming tree.Standing beside your passing alley.Gentally,stubly blooming the tree,the whole flowering limbs are my earest pray.You stepped closely,closely but you passed by without a slightest glimpse.Oh,my love,the falling flowers were not de flowers,but my breaking heart shattered from piece to piece.