How to let you meet me
In my most beautiful moment
I prayed for this for 500 years.
Pray for Buddha to let us have a dusty relationship.
Buddha made me a tree.
Follow the path you may take.
In the blooming flowers, I wait in the sun.
Every flower carries my previous hopes.
When you get close,
Listen carefully
The trembling leaves are my passion for waiting,
When you walked under the tree, you didn't notice me.
On the ground behind you
My friend,
Not falling petals
But my withered heart.
At the beginning of the poem, meeting you at my most beautiful moment shows that I fell in love with him at first sight. To this end, "I" imagined that this was the result of my begging for a dusty relationship in front of the Buddha at the age of 500. I can imagine how pious I am, and how uneasy my beating heart is when I meet someone I like! After reading the first paragraph, we can imagine the girl's longing and longing.
In the second paragraph, because my piety touched the Buddha, the Buddha turned me into a tree and grew on the roadside where you must pass. This shows that "I" can't live without him. I am willing to turn into a tree, an immovable tree, and wait silently. In order to attract the person I like, I deliberately bloom carefully in the sun, hoping to attract his attention. What beautiful flowers! The blossoming is the hope of the protagonist's previous life. At this time, although I suffer from unrequited love, I am full of hope. I hope that one day, you can come near me, near me.
At the beginning of the third paragraph, he wrote that he approached "I", and he finally approached "I", ah! My heart must be shaking, don't believe it, look at the trembling leaves, that's the enthusiasm I'm waiting for, and the hero must be very nervous at the moment! After reading these, we are also sweating, silently blessing her and hoping that she can get what she wants. But the next "harmony" shattered my hope, and you finally walked away regardless. It turns out that you approached only because "I" grew on the side of the road that you had to pass, and you finally walked away regardless. Maybe you never really cared about me, and now I must be extremely lost! Like falling from the sky to the ground, my heart is dying, and the flowers I hope for have withered. In the last sentence, the author compares the petals to a withered heart, just right, the ending of a poem, the ending of a secret love. That withered heart must still be bleeding!