"On the day when I am dying, you must be sad
But I am so content, and I will whisper to you
You are the best part of my life
When you die, when you go back to the dirt
I will recognize you, and my heart will be near yours
Making no sound, you know this is me, and I know that is you"
Next life will we have another beautiful spot to meet?
I will wait for you at the place where the river bends
Holding up my aged umbrella like the bronze bell in the temple
No tears. No declaration
Only a peace of mind achieved after a horrible flood
I will be an empty container, depleted and dry
At the river bend of next life
No longer would I wait for storms of the century
No more love and hate, not even pleasure
But truth that best resembles a chipped or fragmented ancient urn
Those words that you almost said but took back from your lips
A sentence that has become a blackened bell of sorrow
You should know that was only a place where the river bends
Black hair sits there to become gray
A bright life splits into separate channels
Will we meet yet again
to reexamine the once glorious gorge
It was a night of cold dream on begonia mat
You and me, two skulls that have lost some teeth
Life and death are falling into the fog...
The river bend of next life
will be snow-melted river trickling into a dream
soft, tender, winding and fatigued
A story that can't be negated
will be left there as a whole
to become crazy like the trees and mountains
And all the familiar sites and stuff that no longer have owners
will also be abandoned there
like a broken container
to be burned into ashes, and nothingness
Next life
will we have another beautiful place to meet?
At a river-bend that is drenched in moonlight and sunlight
There will be a huge concert
on an unknown virgin field that spreads at her will
After we meet
we will quietly leave, hand in hand
Please hold my arm with care
at that suspicious and bleeding river bend
Hold me as if holding a broken dream, a broken urn
Next life the river will bend
in some valley that is missing from the map
She will endure her loneliness
but turn the dreams of the previous century green