The Lost Love

Even now I think about the blossom,

Where's the glory of glance gathered is under procedures,

Where's the journey ended under the determination,

Here's only rest the dead moon with deemed dull days,

Until waited for her meanless reply at the dazzled door for her's delightful depart,

Would isn't it be happened again the autumn abrupt instead lushy,

Couldn't make it possible the wind blow to feel the beauty of spring,

Perhaps or not rather the dominance delayed recessive

Whether it shall be influenced once again truly,

Also, memorized the surprising scene isn't it seem once again,

Surely, the rain too about to make the droplet,

Knowingly the lily excessively spread the perfume of precious love