当风的手指，

梳过草丛，

神的意志，

便在其中。

但你，永远捉不住。

美，也是如此，

刻意追逐，便消失，

只在，风吹过，

一瞬的褶痕。

Beauty - be not caused - It Is -

Chase it, and it ceases -

Chase it not, and it abides -

Overtake the Creases

In the Meadow - when the Wind

Runs his fingers thro' it -

Deity will see to it

That You never do it -