It was a day as fresh as grass growing up and clouds going over and butterflies coming down can make it. It was a day compounded from silences of bee and flower and ocean and land, which were not silences at all, but motions, stirs, flutters, risings, fallings, each in its own time and matchless rhythm.
這天，清新如嫩草長，柔云飄，彩蝶舞。
這天，蜂停花佇海平陸靜。
但這一切，
并非靜謐無邊。
蜂蝶拍翅之微動，
海潮漲落之翻涌，
萬物都在自己的韻律中生生不息。
