The place changes and go, like a wind, like clouds.
Like the traces of the heart, no halt at the places.
The place is so far away, be the part.
People's head don't reach so merely has the worship.
The place is a loftly lord, can't meet nobody put on.
We will lose the place, so loftly which changes.
Not all were desired. However, we're never sad.
Still, there is still the place, far away, far away.
The wind blows through the place , an endless, with all.
Like the ripple float on the water, it blows as it goes.
The place is no make at all, nothing is shown.
Like the sand clasped by hand, it falls vainly.
The place is a profound lord and wear the vain light.
But we will find it in the place, the hut at which it stands still.
If not concerned with all, it will maintain that no dye.
Therefore there is still the hut, it's lonely, solitaty, no halt at the wind.
It soars to the sky, like the verdure meets with sunrise.
It grows up as reborn, the hut held new one that's different from all.
Like the sand castle of the children, but realized with the mind.
The person is a vain statue, wear taciturnity calm.
Still, we will know a huge flow.
Soon, the wind wears the snow cloud, will be dye to the snow one.
Summer grass will incline, no sunlight, feebly shade