[1]    After very， very， very long, they stood up from kneeing, holding each others' arms; the sun printed only sorrow and solitary on their aged back; so distinct with the air of happiness mood in the temple; of a sudden burst, I felt my eyes swelled with warm tears that arose from the memory of my parents; left me at 4 of my childhood; there is only one layer of yellowish soil that separate us by 'ying & yang' ( the other world they were living ) stretching the distance that one could never come over, or get over, never, could see them; that pain, cutting through  skin and into  bones; never, could you get rid of it, like a scar of newly wounds, when touching, it's bleeding, and pouring....