The Smile of Khmer (IX)

This morning, as I passed through the rainforest, I suddenly discovered that the Pong flowers were in a beautiful bloom, tenderly leaning towards the tall ancient tree, whispering to each other like a couple in love. Enjoying the scorching sun every day, I no longer care about getting tanned or sunburned. I've stopped applying the sticky sunscreen and just let the wind and sun caress my half-pants and T-shirt clad body, the only thing I need to protect in the midst of the swirling dust is my camera. The South Gate that I pass by every day was unusually quiet today, so I stood under the gate watching the Buddha statues facing all directions enjoying the brisk wind blowing through. In front of the Chau Say Tevoda temple, surrounded by the jungle, there's a patch of red earth. The central temple without walls stands bare, with the vertical corridors shorter and the horizontal ones extending to the stone paths supported by columns, which must have been the docks once. This temple was restored with the help of our country. The damaged parts have been exquisitely repaired by craftsmen, but the stones used are of different colors. Our proud carving techniques have diluted the sense of time, and the only sound in the peaceful woods is the laughter of young girls running and jumping, with a small path extending into the dense greenery, surrounded by vines. Across the highway is the Thommanon temple, which is quite similar in appearance to the Chau Say Tevoda. Under the shade of trees by the roadside, Nina is still reading his book in the car, with the sunlight filtering through the leaves and speckling the light grey canopy. When I climbed the steps of the stone corridor, I did not continue forward. A pair of lovers in the throes of passion were kissing intensely in front of the exquisitely carved goddess statues, with the sunlight at 9:27 am slanting onto the girl's golden, shimmering hair tips.