“TALK TO THE TREE, MAKE FRIENDS WITH IT.”
-BOB ROSS
As the mist leaves no scar,
The density of the air condenses,
Blurring the ends where the tree reaches.
Perhaps in another world,
The particles of tree condenses,
Blurring the edges where the air thins.
如同霧一樣不留痕跡,
空氣的密度濃縮,
模糊著樹梢的邊界。
或許在另一個世界,
樹的粒子會濃縮,
模糊著空氣稀薄的邊界。