Love should be no sins,
like the thorn grows on Winter rose,
like a poison snake to be born in Summer grass.

If you mean to curse,
turn me into a tree to wither for Winter hills,
burn my body to ashes for Autumn wind.

It merely a beautiful mind,
like the ray of sun means to touch the Earth,
like the light of moon means to paint the Fields.

2008.03.28, 4:53:54 pm, Fri.