Swallows go away, come back again ; willow trees , and there is green again ; peach blossoms fade, they will bloom again . But the clever , you tell me, why should our days never to return? - Is it someone stole them : Who is that? Where could he hide it? Fled of their own right : now to where?
I do not know how many days they gave me ; but my hands are getting empty. Counting up silently , thousand days have slipped from my hands ; like needle drop of water drops in the ocean . My days are dripping into the stream of time , no sound , no shadow. My forehead, know how many days .
to have gone to keep coming ; in between , how swift is it? When I get up in the morning , fired into a small room in two or three slanting sun. The sun has feet , ah, lightly and furtively out ; my wears . So - wash your hands when the day from the basin in the past; to eat, the bowl over the past days ; silence , begins with condensation of my eyes before the past. I can feel his haste , and reach out my hands to hold his hand and from the past cover the arm of the evening, as I lie in bed , he Ling Ling- Li, across from me , from my feet to fly Go. So I open my eyes and the sun again, one day has gone . I sigh over her face . But the shadow of the new day began to flash past in the sigh .
fled in the days of flying in this bustling world, what can I do ? Nothing but to hesitate , to rush ; in more than eight thousand day rush , apart from hesitating , but also left something? Over the past days , such as smoke , blown away by the breeze , such as the mist evaporated by the early sun ; What have I left traces of it? Have I ever left behind any gossamer traces at all? I came to this world ########## , ########## also go in an instant ? It is not fair , why do we seek for nothing that was ah ?
you are wise, tell me, why should our days never to return?
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