By Not the sound of a leaf trumpet on the lips of the past/afternoon/ not at all
Or the dead leaf has heard the sound of time
The more you stand on the mountain / the more you fly in the sky
I love the sound of birds, deep and lonely
Last night, in the east of the river, who followed the flames to the sky
Leaving behind a life of special feelings
The Ganges River is in pain The Ganges River is crying
Which Buddha-land yesterday / what ashes today say goodbye to people
Come on, it’s not a forest cicada / I’m just playing with leaves
listen to the way back to the old days
Can’t make clouds stop the afternoon from falling slowly
That new shade of sunshine has faded
You are like a vast field / I am the wind or the cloud, I don’t know
Where do you want to go in the afternoon to catch your nails across the sky?
short and long tears on the sunlight
is the dust that accumulates or the tears of rain alone…
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