Love Never Ages

There is no age limit for exchanging love. Every time I erase the word love on the ripples of the water, it will always light up again. The love poem will last forever for those who carved it.

Across the ages, love turns out to be able to bloom beautifully when aging. His gentleness even more caressing the old.

In agitation of desire, from all winds, vows in heat and cold.

Love is able to warm when the dawn shines again. Among the branches and green shoots of leaves, the two of us are there again.

In a valley that is increasingly beautiful, it's like repeating when you were young. Flowers are still envious. The grass, which had begun to dry out, had time to squint. The difference is, it's much quieter now.

The frailty of the body shakes the silence. Rubbing longingly, in eternal tenderness.

It would be wrong to think that the old wing could no longer flap happily. Let it be slow, but sure.