Before a man is old, his heart is already broken;
The sun has not yet set, causing me to think and worry;
The moon is sad and desolate, and I want to be lonely;
The wind blows and the hair falls.
After the death of parents, the heart becomes haggard;
Between love, the clouds of hatred drift away.
Love has gone, and death is the only way to free her;
The soul has dissipated, in order to restore her love, in order to exchange for her alluring smile and true warmth;
Life and death are no longer important. What is important is her love for me.