| Where had you roam, where had you wander |
| For days undayly you’d rove like wind through wild lea |
| So long years had roads weaved their meshes |
| And you’d forget where were you heading |
| Those grasses charmed me in dark oblivion |
| Poisoned me, and drawn in deep black swamp |
| And I went round and roamed in thick mist |
| Had not know light — that just lost dreams |
| Already birds fly back home from foreign lands |
| Birds those white to nests that was forsaken |
| And only you’re not bind by yearning yet |
| To native land still you turn not your gaze |
| I am seeking you in land deserted |
| I am calling but have no reaply |
| Just so all troubled, vernal waters will go Just I will wait you but have no return |
| But days of mine will die away like sparkles |
| And lowering sky will bloody my last sunset |
| And I will follow you through flames of interment |
| And grass of dreams will cover up my mound |
| River is wide, it’s winding on the long way |
| Across the fields of death |
| I could never pass |
| And light grows dim — my sun will soon be leaving |
| So I will stretch my weak hands |
| To sundown, biding farewell. |