I'm awesome, you know?
The moonlight is like water—in a foreign land, late at night, a beautiful night shared with a solitary figure.
The moon is exceptionally round tonight. No matter how dazzling the city lights, they cannot conceal its cool, silvery glow. A gentle breeze blows through the window, swaying the shadows of the trees, like the old locust tree in front of my hometown whispering in the wind.
Busy with the daytime hustle and bustle, I seem to have no time for longing. But in the quiet of the night, a soft loneliness always surfaces unexpectedly. Sitting in this small house in a foreign land, looking at the moon outside the window, I suddenly have a strange feeling—as if that moon were hanging over the eaves of my hometown, shining on the familiar street corner, and on that face I miss day and night.
A beautiful night, a lovely scene, should be shared. But this cup of tea, this bright moon, keep me company only with my shadow. My thoughts drift a thousand miles, recalling the fragrance of osmanthus from my hometown, the laughter of my friends, the hot noodle soup my mother makes… everything seems so distant, yet so painfully close.
I know the road to a foreign land is destined to be lonely. For my ideals, for a living, for that vague yet unwavering future in my heart, I can only keep going, step by step. Sometimes, though, I truly hope that on this unfamiliar street, there might be someone who understands my feelings for the moon right now.
Moonlight spilled onto the table, casting a soft shadow of me—thin, yet resolute. Perhaps loneliness isn't so terrible; it merely reminds me that I'm still on the road, still searching.