“Turning to the crimson pavilion, beneath the filters of its carved lattices, illumination baffles sleep. Why does the moon bear grudge as it fills the sky in the bidding of farewells?!... Mortals come across sorrow and joy, parting and reunion, the moon, so lack the luster in its cloudy and fair sky, is waning. An old story of a struggle for perfection with a wish that, the mortals, though miles apart, many now and forever share the loveliness under this moonlight.”
