If life starts over, I will still hold the dewy morning to bid farewell to the sleepy moon. I will still stand under the bodhi tree and look for your lost pieces of fragrant autumn colors. I will still capture you. Then go to the hillside to release the loneliness of butterflies. I will still feel your music. Go directly to the deep sea to breathe the invisible tulips. I will still approach your door feathers and quietly place a restless kiss in the night light. I will still lie down. On the hanging rock, let the whip of memory beat me with helpless regret. I will still crawl into the tropical rain forest and use my tears to experience the blue loneliness far away from you. I will still take a walk with the colorful clouds and then take a nap in your reflection. I will still sail away with the sound of doves. Picking up your childhood dreams by the Swan Lake, I will still step on the waves of the Yangtze River to build up a string of sapphire-blue love letters. I will still open the skylight of history and insert a fragrance of freedom on it. I will still do it a thousand times. Embrace the sun until it dissolves into one carat of innocence