Terry Lin
Whose voice did I hear, like a river sobbing in a dream;
I saw whose footsteps were far away, covering my sad eyes when I said goodbye.
What I don't understand is why you are willing to let dust describe you;
I used to have your name and my voice in the forgotten world.
That sad song will always wake up in a dream and tell the sad past;
Seemingly careless turning around is a dim shadow after wiping away tears.
What I don't understand is why you can't get rid of your appearance in this world;
Whether it is too late or not, the prophecy of fate has written down your smile and my mood.
You, the same, stand in the world.
Clever children, carrying fragile (beloved) lanterns.
Handsome you, turn your thoughts into dust.
Lonely child, you are the grace of creation.
Whose voice did I hear, like a river sobbing in a dream;
I saw whose footsteps were far away, covering my sad eyes when I said goodbye.
What I don't understand is why you are willing to let dust describe you;
I used to have your name and my voice in the forgotten world.
That sad song will always wake up in a dream and tell the sad past;
Seemingly careless turning around is a dim shadow after wiping away tears.
What I don't understand is why you can't get rid of your appearance in this world;
Whether it is too late or not, the prophecy of fate has written down your smile and my mood.
You, the same, stand in the world.
Clever children, carrying fragile (beloved) lanterns.
Handsome you, turn your thoughts into dust.
Lonely child, you are the grace of creation.