လွမ်းရသော နွေဦးရက်များ
Today, I would like to dedicate the following French poem to Ce.
L’Adieu
The farewell by Poet Guillaume Apollinaire.
J’ai cueilli ce brin de bruyère
L’automne est morte souviens-t’en
Nous ne nous verrons plus sur terre
Odeur du temps brin de bruyère
Et souviens-toi que je t’attends
The last time I saw Ce was five years ago today. Of course, neither of us anticipated it would be the last time we saw each other. Even as the years have passed, the memory of our last days together lingers vividly in my mind. Three days before today, we left the windy Welly, and upon arrival in Auckland, we checked into the YHA hostel. Ce's choice.
Ce was set to leave this morning, flying back to Caledonia. I was wide awake for most of the night and woke up before the alarm went off, yet I remained silently in bed. I watched Ce quietly and quickly gather belongings in our poorly lit room in the early morning hour and leave without saying goodbye. I wanted to run after Ce, offer a proper farewell, perhaps a tight hug, but I did not. I only kicked myself in bed full of regrets some time after Ce had left.
Sadly, I couldn’t wallow in sorrow in bed for long as I too had a journey to embark on that day. I checked out an hour later. The town felt quiet in the absence of Ce, everything seemed to move in super slow motion. I stood at the zebra crossing for minutes, feeling lost. A passer-by wished me a happy bank holiday; I could only nod and smile in response.
On the bus to Whangārei, I befriended a Kiwi who now called the States home. He shared that he was traveling to see his mum for the first time in twenty years. He was talking to me nonstop, but my mind was occupied with thoughts of Ce. The flight. The homecoming. Our days in Christchurch, Wanaka, and Welly
Ce was the reason I learnt French..
Ce, I miss you so much on these playful windy days in early spring.
En ces jours venteux et ludiques du début du printemps, tu me manques tellement.
ဒီလို လေမြူးတဲ့ နွေးဦးရက်တွေမှာ ကိုယ်မင်းကို သိပ်သတိရတယ်။