Time passes, time flies,
and the fleeting moment,
like a bird in flight,
Fades as it flies away.
It cannot be shackled,
to slice it,
that remains in my hand,
There are not many ways to do it.
But this is what the photo offers,
And the eye and the heart that creates,
stops what goes on,
And keeps the wonder forever.
Not everything becomes a magic picture,
from itself the cool machine
Is incapable of creating wonder,
It is in itself unmemorable.
It needs an artist, imagination,
To see nature.
Who gives back what he sees,
Who can touch the world at large!
(direct translated by Deep L)