Trino Chan

A mild breeze is blowing along the vast grassland,
the sun is glowing brightly above the grassland,
a horse is careering quickly in this immaterial area.
...

We met in coincidence.
Internet became the place where we dated.
I was inspired by her poems,
feeling like she was a very pure, sometimes innocent but pessimistic girl.
...

Beauty or beast,
Poor or rich;
just look up and you will see,
there are always stars every night,
...

By chance we encountered
On dates we have caught the eye of each other
Now we have become closer
No wonder we want something more
...

I used to travel between brightness and darkness,
from the optimistic hope to the pessimistic despair,
just keep going nonstop.
...

(A memorial poem for the 19th day of every month)

I stop riding my bicycle suddenly.
I look around,
...

(the last poem written for cheval blanc, and from now on, ultimately, I gave her up.)

From summer to winter,
For days and months,
...

It was a scorching and drowsy summer,
anonymous was wandering at home outside the balcony,
spending many idle hours just sitting in the sun.
...

It is a redbrick college,
I have an exquisite feeling on it.
It is a tranquil afternoon,
silence reigns.
...

In my dream,
*** is a comely girl with
brown ponytail.
She plays piano.
...

Starry starry night,
it is a sweltering summer night.
I lie on the grassland,
counting the number of stars.
...

Anonymous,
the one who must not be named.
Nameless,
the one who anonymous loves.
...

It is a normal Saturday,
anonymous is sitting on the same seat,
glimpsing the same scene,
feeling the same milieu,
...

The white horse kept running,
without looking back.
The past was disgraceful and lackluster,
no one wanted to recall it.
...

It is midsummer,
and the nights are hot.
Black horse is strolling along the lake,
trying to delve into another world.
...

It is November,
clamness rules.
After an arduous chase,
the black horse eventually stops.
...

Look outside the obscured window,
there is a fig tree.
There is no roundness,
no fruit in it.
...

In the boundless sky,
two different types of air mass,
waving their dreams in the sky.
...

I sing a song
and let it fly.
I let it flow into your glittering eyes.
...

Here is a secret garden,
just a line separated from the reality.
It is compelling yet mysterious,
no one has entered the garden for many years.
...