To the Beloved One
For the thickened gloomy wall seems too melancholy,
and the blue sky beyond the window seems bluer,
I become very eager to see you. And, therefore,
my dearest, the flowing stream that never returns
hasten me to recall your waning image.
I feel much like singing such a lonely and doleful song
that can tear my heart to pieces. For your varnished whispering,
which as holding my trembling hand tenderly, turned into an echo
and returns to the window of my little heart, and alone leans onto
the window frame to stare at the flowing stars.
I feel much like weeping all night through,
again and again. I feel much like tossing around
the floor while holding your pillow that you left behind.
“………………………”
“Did you hear it?” I suppose,
it’s a sound of blue petal as lonely as you,
fell onto the back yard.
Dearest, my beloved, who do I love so deeply,
please, call me with your tender voice
as a murmuring stream. Please, hold me tightly
with your Herculean arms, ah, I feel like dying
in this nightmarish moment.
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