At night when the moon sets, when frost comes, I see your smiling face among the petals hanging in the sky, and I hear your gentle voice in the light breeze.
You said, give laurel to a noble person, you are my noble person.
I smiled, bright red blood flowing down the corners of my mouth.
I still can't forget you, and I will do so for the rest of my life.
But, am I really your noble?