I grow old while waiting and grow up in longing. The person I love doesn’t understand me, even everything about me. Waiting for the verdict of a meaningless love, I still can’t walk on this road. I cut off my legs. The holy paper below is waiting for a sad era. I passed through this wheat field and I am still watching. A war broke out in my head. My dream went out to wander. I watched helplessly as he could not return home. I read the letter under the warm sunshine. I am so happy that I can't open my eyes. I have a pair of sad eyes, but I see a sunny you. In late spring and summer, my red beans grow crazily. My sadness and I are separated, as if we have lost an era and a long moment that never existed. In 2006, Spring is not over yet