Wednesday, 1 August 2007

Time being forgotten

Who is knocking my window?
Who is play with musical instrument string
I don’t know it.
That times being forgotten, coming back to the bank of my heart little by little
That happy scene in memory, emerging in my mind slowly
That light rain floats down bit by bit, knocking my window ceaselessly
Only that I am in silence, missing the past time every now and then.






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