It was a summer day,
countless cicadas sang by my ears whilethe sun teased me harmlessly
They tried to wake me, but it wasn’t enough
 
I witnessed mountains rise from the plain line
rivers emerged from soil
lives rioted around me, just for a while
 then again a blank space
Time had lost its meaning to me
I once thought if I had lived long enough
maybe it wouldn’t be that hard to figure out the purpose of life
A life of thousands years
of loneliness
 
But I had seen too much, lost too much
One day, I decided to sleep
I had been closing my eyes for a long time
 
I could still feel the air change near my skin
The wind, the rain, the moon, the sun
but my heart never touched, never,
never a trace of throb
 
I ended up in the garden of a minister
the country unknown
 
Kids sometimes came around,
running around beneath my arms
The concubines also came to worship me
They kneeled below my feet,
decorated me with scarlet silk ribbons
I granted them good wishes
At first it was fun to read their mind,
then it became tiring, even provoking
Fortunes, sons, and status
 
I decided to sleep, until he came around.
His head would lean towards my chest,
and then gradually, he fell to dreams
I looked inside his thoughts
pure, intriguing, and lonely
 
It was him.
A little boy, full of ideas never fulfilled
I never got tiredofreading his mind
It brought me laughter, affection and fresh beginnings
I felt an urge, a desire to open my eyes
He talked to me, I listened
I was no longer a desolate silhouette
He came to me
even in those winter days when I looked ugly and pale
He sat beside me, hugged me with his little arms
 
I watched him grow, cared for him
Soon he was about to marry
a woman arranged for him

His sorrow became mine
Our hearts were one
He stopped coming to me,
at least not here alone
His wife came around,
fortunes, sons, and status
It stung me
 
Right there, I decided to be mortal
 
It did not take me long,
might just have been a minute or two
I was exactly who I wanted to be
A maiden
 
I went to find him
He looked different
 
His hair grey,
his wrinkles - signs of aging
I wouldn’t have recognized himif not for
the same mind of his- It was the same since he was a kid- Love
 
Maybe time should have its meaning,
but I had long lost it
The day I was born,
he passed

 
Before his life vanished before mine,
I read his mind one last time
All he thought about was
the tall banyan in the garden