April took a small step toward May, and a large number of green leaves were about to burst forth from the tree branches.
Everything grew rapidly as if the fast-forward button had been pressed on a film.
"The cherry blossoms are all gone."
On the steep slope leading to Goda High School, Kiyono Lin gazed at the cherry trees' bare, brown branches.
"The new green leaves will grow out soon." Dubian Che paused, "If you connect these two phrases, does it count as a haiku? 'Cherry blossoms all gone, new green leaves will soon grow.'"
"Did you memorize the 'Essentials of Haikai'?" Kiyono Lin subtly pointed out his nonsense, that he understood nothing.
"Instead of learning haiku, it's better to learn Wakayama. I've memorized the entire 'Collection of Ten Thousand Leaves,' but Han poetry is the best. I have a personal preference for that," Dubian Che replied.
Outside of China, poetry written in the Chinese language is called Han poetry.
