A Handkerchief Turning into a Cloud

The green grass was like a carpet.

The huge pines were like umbrellas.

We stopped on the mountain path

Leading to the temple.

The dragonflies were hovering in the sunshine.

The leaves were swaying in the breeze.

A gust of wind suddenly came from the mountain，

Sweeping away your unfolded handkerchief，

Which was watched drifting away，

Finally turning into a cloud.