Oh, ugly midnight jasmine
Will my heart be bright just because I paint a bright colorful picture?
Don’t fill the hole made by love.
Over the sea that swallowed the sun,
Put it in a red ball and let it float

Not a cotton cloud, but a heavy fog,
It seeped in through the cracks in the door that could not be closed yet,
A ghost bride pretending to be a gentleman.
No matter how many times I open my eyes that I thought were closed.
I can only find,
Brushes, paints, paper and pencils.

Ah, fog and pits.
As pretty and clear as possible,
Old but only know how to hide,
The child.
Come out now, so I can hug you.
I’ll listen, hello, hello, hello.
I hear the sound of a turtledove
tomorrow too.