Credits
Lyrics: Lin Yuye
Composition: Lin Yuye
Arrangement: Lin Yuye
Vocals: ACE Xiaomo, ACE Luanming
Released: February 2023
Rain falls in fine, unbroken threads, bead after bead across the street.
The heart feels hollow, swaying as if something has been taken from it.
My steps slow down; the sorrow grows tangled.
It is a cold season, ownerless and bare.
Dreams return in fragments—blurred, drifting, only half-seen.
Love glimmers and clings, tender yet unmistakably real.
There are more smiles than before; even tears seem sweeter
in the warm little world where you are present.
You said this winter was far too short,
vanishing like smoke before it could be held.
After clouds and rain, the sun sinks;
to fall asleep is already to begin parting.
I said this winter was far too long,
so long it felt impossible to outlast.
How much time must pass
before flowers bloom into a sea bright enough to reflect your smile?
You sealed last year’s ginkgo leaf
between the pages of my book.
From then on, countless bright stories—joy, grief, meeting, separation—
spread themselves across the paper.
I copied down tonight’s starry sky
and gave it to my butterfly.
The butterfly flew softly;
the young boy followed softly,
leaning close, unwilling to untangle from the moment.
Dreams still arrive broken and hazy,
while love remains shining, winding, true.
An embrace makes the air a little warmer;
the long night seems a little shorter.
Yet none of it is ever enough
to withstand farewell after farewell.
Again, you said winter was too brief,
a vision dispersed like smoke.
After rain and clouds, the evening sun goes down;
sleep becomes another name for goodbye.
Again, I said winter was too long,
endless as a road with no turn.
How long until blossoms gather like a tide
and carry back the shape of your smile?
The ginkgo from last year remains hidden in my book,
a quiet mark pressed into paper.
All those colorful stories—partings, reunions, sorrow, delight—
begin from that single folded season.
I offer tonight’s sky to my butterfly once more.
It rises lightly;
the boy chases after it lightly.
They draw near, stay close,
and cannot bear to separate.
The road goes on in pauses and starts.
I look back again and again, wordless, my throat tightened.
The heart is still empty, still wavering,
as though one more missing piece has opened inside it.
Perhaps, if you have time,
you could come and listen to my song.