Gloaming. The sky is low. Each rattan thread is woven with light color. The wind stopped. Space will be iron in drizzle. The thin rain curled down on the shoulder of the person who missed a step. The rain is arrogant, so it doesn’t bother anyone. Sadness falls and disappears. Rain makes people happy, people love them fondly. Rain makes people sad, people feel sorry for them. By the window, I watched the time pass. Remember what in the midst of a sky of memories that have yellowed over the years? The gains and losses of a human life: impermanent, unchanging. The circle of creation trivia who escapes, has to sadly accept the regret overflowing through the afternoon rain metaphor. Out there, each flower bud stretches out its husks horizontally. The rain is gone! Trees stretched when the rain poured down. Cheerful rain dancing and bathing with trees. But then the rain had to go so that the green color covered all the roads. Thirty years old, twelve years old in the hometown, what can people gain and lose? I am greedy and satisfied with the present but also want to look back at the past. Beautiful, beautiful! Rain asked me sad or happy? Are you feeling sad when it rains? I’m not sad but … I hear lust. Found far away from the bamboo village at the end of the village. Faintly, I heard that the smell of earth rushed to the throne. The smell of the motherland!