University of Phonaing - I'll call you Sakhi like a friend.

" I long for the love flower,

I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry.

Thancho Mya Mya Mya Mya Pyar Win

"Stay here... "

Sister Pyar Win, stay here... stay here... stay here..

The last lines of this poem echo in my mind, like the summer song of a hornbill responding to the sound from the mountainside.

I know that literature, poetry, and the arts are good to cherish. I know that literature, poetry, and the arts are good to cherish, but I do not understand that literature, poetry, and the arts are born from the bonds of suffering and suffering in the path of life, which is based on the truth of the universe, and which is the source of new suffering. I do not understand clearly... Since ancient times, I have repeatedly recited these verses of "Shin Aggamadhi" in the "Namāi Bom Kān" without reason, and I have repeatedly recited them in my imagination.

Now... this poem, which cannot be recited from the mouth, but only resonates in the heart, must be for you...

“Forgive me, Khaing. May there be a future life, Khaing. May there be a cycle of rebirths and a drop of water that meets again in the cycle. May there be a drop of water that meets again in the cycle of rebirth

They call someone who is no longer able to hear a person who speaks a madman. Try saying that. I am indeed a madman. Because my dear Khine cannot hear the words I have spoken above.... No matter how much I want to hear them, my dear Khine cannot hear them.

Knowing that I can't hear you clearly...

"Don't say anything, my lord..." I couldn't bring myself to utter these words, but if I did, the invisible mountain wind would carry me from the dark shadows of the spiritual world beyond the unknown summer clouds to the place where I would stand in silence.

Don't get me wrong.....

"I don't want to say, 'Namko Win, Ne Ri Min...'" I don't want to say it. If I could, I wouldn't say it.

Just as the old tree cannot say goodbye to the yellow leaves that have left the old tree of summer, I wish I could say no more.

The hard thing is... Khaing is not a yellow leaf. I am not an old tree either.

All the pain I've experienced.... I can't stand the yellow leaves and the old tree. For the old tree, if the brown leaves fall, the young leaves will grow.

Just as a single leaf, which is made up of two layers, has fallen off, leaving one leaf uncut, and I, who do not know how long I will endure this incomplete, lonely life, am lucky. I am even luckier because I have no feelings.

In the three worlds of feeling and perception... I, who am the highest, do not forget the past. I know the present. I am the one who can foresee the future. I am the one who is the worst. With the sharp senses that a person possesses, I do not know whether I should hate the body, the mind, the mind, the mind, the mind, the body

“I don’t want to see, hear, or know about my surroundings, Khaing. I also want to forget the past, Khaing. I’m not happy in the present either, Khaing. I’m scared every time I think about the future, Mi Khaing.”

I don't want to see it, but I can see the surroundings.

The surroundings I saw were wild and wild, with the wind blowing wildly, the yellow and golden leaves falling one after another, the blue of the summer twilight. Where I stood was a desolate cemetery, with only the graves and the gravestones scattered everywhere.

The yellow leaves are just the dancers of the season who, at the end of the story, carry the mourning festival with gestures, without singing a melancholy song.

As I watched the season dancers' crying ceremony with a heartbroken heart, I was the only one who didn't dare to cry.

"I want to cry, Khaing... But I don't want Khaing's peaceful spiritual world to be destroyed by the echoes of my brother's sobs, Mi Khaing..."

May you be a Mi Khaing and have peace in your life...

"My life can no longer be peaceful, my dear.... No matter how much I love you, no matter how much I hate and resent the bad luck that has happened, there can never be peace in my life, my dear."

Knowing this, let them say that love is a curse. I am like a madman who spins a meteor and collects it.

The meteors I search for are just nostalgic memories from a past that is no longer there.

The past times that Khaing and I spent together are nothing but nostalgic memories.