On the thirteenth day of the lunar month calm winds, rising tide. With clan duties finally laid to rest, I glimpsed the moon's pale shadow slipping through my door.
The frosted moon lingered above the branches, and I could not bear to sleep alone. By candlelight, I walked north along the shore. That night, the sea was still, the sky clear and shallow like a mirrored river. Fish darted beneath the surface, magpies stirred in flight. All things shimmered with clarity, friends gathered in joy such a wondrous scene, and I longed to share it with you.
So I borrowed blossoms to frame the moon, plucked stars in reflection, and set a few riddles amidst sea and sky. Come tomorrow, when you arrive and feel the wind stir and the clouds part, the moon and waves shall be just as they were. If you see what I saw, feel what I felt perhaps, you too, will savor this quiet delight.
But as stars fade and clouds retreat, the sun rises and dew slips away. In that fleeting moment, I was reminded: life is brief, and such perfect nights rarely return. Thus I carved this memory in lasting stone, hoping to preserve its fleeting beauty. Let this night's idle longing drift through a thousand years. Beneath sea mist and moonlight, may it one day reach a kindred soul.