I can only wander you in my memory.
You were dressed in plain clothes in the morning.
The blue that reflects the sky becomes light.
The breeze blows gently on you.
Civilization flows by the river.
At night, you regain your glory.
The afterglow of the setting sun cast a flame net.
Scattered on the river, causing sparkling waves.
The sunset glow is plated with gold again.
Like a phoenix bathing in fire
You return to melodious at night.
Just like the violin in song for you.
Small lights and sparkling stars by the river.
* * * interwoven into the last dream of impressionism.