One of the saddest love stories ever told are those in which the man is a monk. Pagodas back then were like orphanages, people would drop babies there behind and so naturally they were brought up as monks. They were brought up living the religion of Buddha which only meant they could only love the whole world but no one in particular because that was one of the carnal things they should not do and in those love stories, between Buddha and his love, the monk rarely chose the girl.
Like how all of the stories started, theirs already started the moment they met each other. He was a monk and she was just a mere girl from the nearby village. She, together with her brother had wandered off and had been curious about the monastery and the people in it. So one day, given by chance they sneak to take a glance and that was when she saw him solemnly with face more beautiful than hers. Right on that time he was on duty to sweep the floor when he saw a little girl with eyes that seemed to hold the entire universe in it. It was the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen and as their eyes meet, the gear of fate that was stopped moving begins to turn unknowingly.
Years had passed since their meeting. The tiny bud had bloomed into a rare and exquisite flower. That once a child had become a woman sought by many men but she only seeks for him, the young monk she had never once forgotten the who held her heart in his hands ever since then. Yet their love was forbidden, for a monk could not marry another lest he would break the laws. He, who was brought by the teachings of monastery stood firm, and with a bitter heart, he walked away from her with wishes that she may find someone better than him, that she may find happiness. However stubborn as she is, she would not give up. She waited silently behind him as he walked by, standing vigilant over him day and night. Her heart never waver as it longed for him to turn his head back once, just once to look at her, but sadly he never did. Perhaps it was better this way, for she knew that if their eyes had met again like of that fateful day, she would've have stop at nothing, not even the eighteen circles of hell, to get him look at her way. And so they met, through and forth, year by year but yet fate did not allow them to be with each other, so love they did not until death had finally knocked at her door. A disease with no cure bound her and knowing her last breathe drawing nearer she requested him a prayer. To pray for her departure in this world, to pray for a new life that would waits on the other side and lastly to pray for her love still unanswered.
In this mundane world where nothing remains
In this covetous world where right and wrong is misuse
I would like to ask the one who writes the scroll of poetry
I would like to ask, the one who plays the ancient zither
I would like to ask, the one who severe the red string of Fate
Though the snow silently falling upon the distant mountain
May this prayer for you shall not turn into ashes
Even after love fades like a plum flower wilting
Even after the fallen leaves pile and dry up
Even after this cold winter became spring
May the sole purpose you seek for be found
A lifetime of love, a lifetime of sadness
Partings and even times spend together
If this is the life that the Fates have scripted
May no remorse shall bind you from Heavens
If you have to forgo reincarnation and thus end up as a wandering spirit
May you still be able to search for your heart
And may you still be able to reunite with the one you had lost
As the last line of the prayer had been said and with the last strength she willfully gathered, she for the last time take a look at the face of her beloved solemnly than before. And instead of saying the words she had longed to tell him even just for once, she decided not to instead just bring it to her grave. For she doesn’t want to bind him with those shackles that will made him regret because regret weighs heavier when you are living than when you are dead.
“Thank you.”
(“I love you and even this body will perished I would only love you. And if I will be given another lifetime, I will only love you.”)
They say that spring is the season for new love, that summer is for possible lasting romance, fall for people to part and winter for things to end. Yet for him all those seasons only mean one thing: HER. No matter how many seasons had passed, he continued teaching the words of God as a devoted monk even now he who no longer had the youthful face like before even when he returned to the place they first met. Right there he reminisces those old days and as the snow keeps on falling, sleep had been deliberately calling him. Perhaps it is time for him to rest.
"All this time, you still waited?" He asked as he saw her stood at the porch.
"Well, I couldn't really let you go. So this time I thought we could finally be together.”
“I left you once. Twice would be too mean." He offered his hand and she happily accepted. This time around she hadn’t waited a long time for him to glance back.
Remember that spring
where our gazes first met across the clear waters of the Han river
Remember that summerwhere we first shared our words and held a heart full of secret
Remember that fallwhen you left leaving an aching heart withered like autumn leaf
Remember that winterwhen I waited for the first snow fall, but heavens called me to their doors
This time with the same faces as when our first gazes on that springthe distance seemed shorter and sweeter
We took our steps slowlyheld our hearts and vanished into the blinding lights
We waited long enough and that's all that mattered
We are together now 