Nine clouds form castles, linger in air. Silver lining, jewel the wind, and there she is. Memory and dream, bright upon ether. As much as moonbows, as phantasmal, as rare. No less abiding. No less, this enchantress. Perpetual in her motion, every spell a smile, every smile a moment shattered through the tempest. No coal dark morn. No cold Ash of dusk, and there she goes.
– Mitsuo Tanaka