I stopped in the sound morning mist

I stop in the sound morning mist

Reviewing the meaning of life and death

I don't mind a little bit of sadness

Whenever I dream of you

My mind treads again into the pure land of this countryside

It is like the common disease of the modern blind

Not wanting to face the faraway place that brings news

Letting my torch fall into dust

Let it bow its head in the morning chant of worship

To light up the footsteps of others

My expectation is the cause of your restlessness

In the orchard of hanging grapes

What kind of person would be depressed by the branches

The so-called southern breeze is after all an outdated lie

Listening to lies is also thinking

The difference is only

The choice between telling and listening

Just like you don't know how to choose

A mother or a girl who falls into the water

That's when you realize

Existence is the accumulation of regret

What you do will be a sour and sweet mistake