Walking along an old terrace, I came to an old withered trunk of a cherry tree...
Old gray and wrinkled, beaten by weather and time, ever since she was planted there... many generations ago.
Then, a few years after the mountain farm was deserted, her life ran out, but still... this many years later... she refuses to give in and topple.
And... deep inside her, deep inside in her darkness... dwells a memory of her beautiful flowering past...
Old gray and wrinkled, beaten by weather and time, ever since she was planted there... many generations ago.
Then, a few years after the mountain farm was deserted, her life ran out, but still... this many years later... she refuses to give in and topple.
And... deep inside her, deep inside in her darkness... dwells a memory of her beautiful flowering past...
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