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.