Painted glass windows, Gothic churches, roses,18th century oil paintings ... all exude quaint flavor, have its unique western color, and cover me gently like a dream. Accompanied by singing, I entered another world, as if through the whole time and space. ...
I stood in front of an ancient medieval church, and the stone road under my feet was slightly wet, as if it had just rained lightly. Moisturizes the clusters of roses growing between the cracks in the stones. They have been hovering, hovering ... attached to oil paintings full of vicissitudes. The breeze blew, and patches of green swayed with the wind, as if listening to the sad piano sound coming from a distance. The church bells were melodious and alarmed the birds in the depths of the forest. They chased, chased ... they flew over the white statue over the circular square together and gradually disappeared in the distance. By the wishing pool next to the square, a girl in white stood quietly. A pair of hands as white as jade crossed on the chest, doing an ancient prayer posture. The afterglow of the sunset reflected her stunning face and poured down the whole circular square. Groups of white pigeons turn their backs on the sunset, as if enjoying this absolutely beautiful picture. Time seems to have frozen at this moment, in the ancient square and the Gothic church hidden deep in this dense forest. It was not until she turned and ran to the empty corridor that the picture came back to life. Poets wandering in the distance sing softly alone, which is different from ethereal opera. In the deserted corridor, girls in white danced softly and sadly, causing intoxicating tiredness. Everything seems to indicate a sad ending, or the story has no ending at all. ...
When the song ends, the sound stops. When I opened my eyes, it was already morning. The headphones scattered on the bedside still echoed the beautiful melody of Prague: "I stood in Prague Square at dusk and put my hopes in the wishing pool. Pigeons have their backs to the sunset. The picture is so beautiful that I can't watch it. In the deserted corridor of Prague Square, I am dancing and spinning alone, and you are singing in the distance. You're really not used to not having me ... "