...

The sun is like a ripe orange, hanging on the branches.

...

Sheep scattered wildly on the hillside, disrupting the twilight.

Butterfly lands on a solitary stone, an elephant dances—

Beside the murmuring stream, a zebra, gazing at the grasslands across the way.

...

'Important news is the sky— soon to be studded with stars of the future.'

...

We wander in the wind's play, to capture the fairies hidden in the dream forest, in the unbelievable dawn light, bending over!

...

I've been crimsoned by time, like a ripe tomato hanging on a withered branch.

Silence in the sown wheat fields.

...

And you, wrapped in the evening glow, wearing a straw hat, both gentle and resolute.

(Will you eventually take it off?)

...

That which grows with longing and pain.

Like lightning striking silently.

But you close your eyes—

Like a butterfly, flying over my soul.

...

I stand alone in the spring, a flame-like cry, clearer than anyone.

Using your ice— to wake up.

And boil—

Fireflies cannot understand the brilliance of the sun, butterflies cannot grasp the flight of birds, the earth is a blue orange, hanging suspended.

We are ants beneath the cliff—

Trapped in the abyss, with a gaze toward the clouds of fate.

How can such small dreams sow stars?

—You've been deceived by yourself!

Air cannot stop birds, water cannot stop fish, I dream at night, catching nothing—

—Only you.

——