A Handkerchief Turning into a Cloud
The green grass was like a carpet.
The huge pines were like umbrellas.
We stopped on the mountain path
Leading to the temple.
The dragonflies were hovering in the sunshine.
The leaves were swaying in the breeze.
A gust of wind suddenly came from the mountain，
Sweeping away your unfolded handkerchief，
Which was watched drifting away，
Finally turning into a cloud.
