That time always runs very dashing, small steps, follow grandma to pick
green tea, earthworms drill out of the soil to see small wildflowers,
exclusive small basket, sweat evaporation in the sun, where the tea
fragrance is my home, the little flower wagged her tail Lazily at the
That summer like holding an umbrella barefoot, snail
back Shell climbed
the grape shelf, that smiling face has been facing the sun, blooming,
grandma slowly along the terraces planting her green tea, that sweet
always along the path, and then around back home, remember to wipe the
tea bowl repeatedly after washing it.
Years later, I remembered the smell, took your hand and went back to
have a look, the river had listened to my troubles, stepping barefoot on
the dirt path, I said I liked the beauty of it, the color of the sky
was just right, the smell of green tea, the tip of my nose floated, no
matter how much money is lost in the story.