IV. When the Wind Was Warm
4-1
The two girls frolicked in the wheat fields,
Fleet as doe deer,
Making ripples in the shallow puddles and pools clear.
As dusk approaches,
The exhausted girls collapse over the wheat heaps,
Talking about their longings and dreams:
Of literature, love, and a journey through a world dear.
“O Sky, slow your closing gaze,
How I want to keep this moment in my hands,
Forevermore.”[1]
On that day, the breeze was warm and gentle.
At that time, death was soft and fair.
4-2
The broken-winged butterfly falls by the window,
Bringing with it a scent of melancholy.
The girl looks outside,
The golden wheat fields rolled endlessly, stretching to the horizon.
Holding to the chair, she tries to stand,
Only to find her legs trembling and feeble.
“Don't worry, Polyxia.”[2]
Her older sister whispers beside her ear,
And on her sister's shoulder, the girl weeps mournfully.
And time thus becomes silent,
Painted with sighs only.
4-3
When hearing the healer's diagnosis,
The girl remained deathly still.
Her eyes were already drained of tears,
And her heart a wilted grave.
“Every time she has something on her mind,
She would tilt her head and look outside.”[3]
Her sister follows her gaze,
Seeing a barren field turned by wind into a desolate gray expanse.
Till one day,
When the girl looks outside,
She sees a dash of dark blue most brave.
“It's a flower my sister planted.”[4]
Like the torrential river of life,
It pours into the depths of her heart.
4-4
The flower is called “Antila,”
Even in the nether land, it's rumored to thrive.
“You are the quiet in my heart amidst the chaotic choreography.”[5]
That seems to be its floriography.
When the days are warm,
The sister would take the girl on long journeys.
Through the flower fields, gazing upon rivers,
Napping amongst the grove, a discussion hearty.
“After I die, I want to become an Antila flower,
And become the quietness in your soul.”
A thoughtless word from the girl,
Gains her a rapping on her forehead most dainty.
“Do not speak of dusk when you have yet to see the dawn.”
Dew drops from the petals,
As wind pulls on the leaves,
And the two of them sit, in quietude.
4-5
The girl asks for the means to tend to the garden,
And while her sister sounds concerned,
Her heart is relieved.
But the concern is well-founded —
The girl tripped and fell into a mire,
She gazed directly into the eyes of death,
In that dark pool bottom unperceived.
“I've been the weight upon my sister's wings…
Let this be where it all comes to rest.”
The girl gives up her struggles,
Only to see a figure pierce through the water's surface —
“I won't allow you talk through the dusk alone,
Or enter the night of no reprieve.”
Her sister sobs without end,
And the girl has to gently hug her, and softly relieve.
… And then, this distant memory turns bleary, difficult to retrieve.