The current of air is blowing and in the sky the moon is beaming. The blooms, trees and small plants are dancing with the music of the wind. I feel, I don't know why, sometimes to change myself into a blossom. Everybody will appreciate me and say, "What a lovely blossom, how pleasant! How charming!" May be, people will insert me into their school head and may others will compose poems seeing me.

The busy crowd of people escaping from themselves on the roads. I yearn to commit happiness every day. Or, go someplace too far off 

So that only my dreams and these sentimental imaginations would remain with me