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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.