DREAM OF A CHERRY BLOSSOM Silent stands he in the garden, sunken into memory. The teapot on the table tells him an old story silently, tells him of the one he loved but could not have traditionally. Softly do the snowflakes fall, just as the cherry blossoms did; more handsome, lovelier was she, every man wanted to merry, each men's heart she stole with only a wink of her eye. And she danced so gracefully, charming, almost like a fairy, precious was her festival robe, her hair decorated with beautiful slides When she played the Shamisen, Heaven and Earth would listen. He remembers very well, at tea time he was under her spell, she poured the tea so elegant; he wished deep in his heart, that only for him she was meant... Even now this wound did hurt. But fate tore them in two, another man had won the strife. Whatever she had felt for him, not on love depended her life. She had not the right to choose, the man who was take her as wife. Many years have passed since then, never did he see her again. He returned to this place to invalid time and space, the teapot brought him close to her - Who left it so lonely there? Still do silent snowflakes fall, the table gently covered with white, also its lid is sugared but a circle is round the waist, like the teapot was still hot and she was still in sight. © Michelle Klemm