~~
Blue white pink babies
Moving lively green leaves
The pride of time comes
As the April's cyclone form

As the needs of life
Having found the sought
Absorb the juice of soil
For the flowers and fruits

Born for gain
Death for loss
Generation to Generation
For the new horizon

The time has gone
Within thousands folds of Stone
The old signs
Repeatedly demonstrates

In front of the standing existence
Calculate the balance of life
Back to the other side
As if all are strangers

Then yellow turns to gray
whispering of dry fallen leaves
In the light of late afternoon
In the music shadows of end life

With the evening
Roots come out slowly
From the ground
Just left the wood without bark
~~