the deep Spring.
peach blossoms hung all over the branches, and the temple bells rang.
I met him in a wild game
while we were all so young.
the vigorous Summer.
rain dripped down leaves into the farmland, and cicadas shed their shells.
I knew you under the vine
before our few times talk.
we will witness the whiteness of Winter together, while there will be no space for him to share the harvest of Autumn with me.
TIME is the true sage.
wisely, secretly,
it brings people around you in four seasons,
filtering out who are not yours.
those ones left will
colour your Spring,
tolerate your Summer,
understand your Autumn,
warm your Winter.
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