ith a sign.

夏天的飞鸟，飞到我的窗前唱歌，又飞去了。T秋天的黄叶，它们没有什么可唱，只叹息一声，飞落在那里。”

“The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover. It becomes small as one song，as one kiss of the eternal.

世界对着它的爱人，把它