So long had life together been that once the snow began to fall, it seemed unending; that, lest the flakes should make his eyelids wince, I'd shield them with my hand, and they, pretending not to believe that cherishing of eyes, would beat against my palm like butterflies. Mon cher bien ami: The moon in this city has no longer dangled in the sky, and sadly all covered up by the rainy snow, though it is certain that this city stays still and never changes its desperation and gloominess. After you left, life is just like jigsaws straggled everywhere, and I hardly can find the framworks and the treads of thought. "Things happen, people change," you said. You wanted an explanation , an ending that would assign blame and dish up justice, just right opposite as I am. Indeed, I am deeply stucked in the abyss, and I will not beseech any mercy, all what I deserve is the punishment, the karma. How can I alleviate the suffering, and yet how can I reveal my most cryptic camouflage under the saccharine smile to you? Be sincere, that is what you asked for. Can not sleep peacefully, you intermittently lied on the bed. To our decayed puberty, out of the blue your words penetrated the silently inky darkness,"I would let go of you, go roving when you're still in youth." I huddled up myself in your arms and let the whopping deadly reticence engulf us. Truely, it is not just my hallucination, you eventually discovered how hypocritical and cynical I am； I despise clinging sorts, whereas I am the one who grasps you as a driftwood. Gradually I understand in all my life I have been callously disregard for the feeling of others because of my aloofness and remorselessness, this twinge of the realization has been afflicting me, deranging me, and making me be debilitated. Everything is irrevocable. In those bygones days, our mellow reverberations of old memories are reminiscent and timeless, but the vestige of intimacy has been obliterated as a lake without any ripple being discovered after breeze. It is a wasted land where is destitute of runlets, nor willow catkins; Ignorance to the widen crevice of my heart, all of the sentiments are in the stupefaction, neither wailing over nor whimpering. I recall you were sitting on the sill that day, the sunbeam through the window depicted your silhouette on the floor, in the room brightness clearly casted light upon the dust floating in the air, that was the static scene and it was also the last image of you I have kept it in mind. Without belief and psyche, how can we symbiosis? If the words can not convey perception, how can we still believe telekinesis exists? "Aimer, ce n'est pas regarder l'un l'autre, c'est regarder ensemble dans la meme direction," we avidly extort what we should not have reached, love, for example, like every thing there is a season, a time to be born, and a time to die; a time to get, and a time to lose; a time to love, and a time to hate; if we can not have it, then just let it go, it is the lesson we have learned from life. So we did, free our ephemeral love and ourselves. Life should be idyllic, we all have this whim-wham. I try not to think about the perplexing conumdrums and the trivial details of life. Be submissive to the imagenation, deport the melancholy, refrain the acquisitiveness, thus the delight would be like seeds of thistlesown dispersal by wind spreadly blossom. Quid pro quo, we have nothing to exchange,even our hearts. simple as that and we all know. Ergo, I would not miss you anymore. Veuillez agréer, l' expression de mes sentiments distingués E.C -- 我已不再归去晴朗的夜晚温凉悄然凄凉的明月清辉下世界早已入睡我的躯体已不在那里而 清凉的微风从敞开的窗户吹进来探问我的魂魄何在我久已不在此地不知是否有人还会把我 记起也许在一片柔情和泪水中有人会亲切地回想起我的过去但是还会有鲜花和星光叹息和 希望和那大街上浓密的树下情人的笑语还会响起钢琴的声音就像这寂静的夜晚常有的情景 可在我俯眺的窗口却已不再会有人默默地倾听只因那消失的往昔过去突然地使人回忆不起 φGianfranco --

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