The wild fire is far, far away Burning in your amber eyes.
The silver jewelry of an ancient tribe Binds your soft waist. Happiness is not expected, But the dreams of a young girl, Blowing like dandelions slowly flowing to the sea. Oh, the endless, boundless waves.
You were born not to tell your sorrows, Not because they are forever gone. When at sunset the bamboo flute and pipa Awaken the overwhelming sadness and grief, You slightly bite the corner of your scarf.
In this fashion you stand gracefully, Between the sea and the sky. So, people neglect the rugged seashore and the hardy rocks Your bare feet have walked on.
Therefore, on the cover page and illustrations You become the picture perfect scenery, and the legend.
