Dew melts in the sun crowd.

The tops of the leaves dancing while bathing.

Eye becomes the mouth, nose into the mouth,

Ear to the mouth, the hair into the mouth, the mouth of a thousand mouths.

The leaves sway lightly crashed the last episode.

Must be dry twigs, the ripples of the river was not flowing.

Masterpiece.

There comes a thorn in the pores of the earth, veins of the century,

Heart-the heart of time, the cells pieces of lives.

Let the hands and feet speaking.