From whom I should hide my heartsore?
From someone who died after or before
The time when I was saw my empty cradle
And I was singing lullaby. I plucked petal
And dropped the floret from my pale hands
Last blossom that grew on these barren lands
When should I stop to hide my limpid tears
And start to give these drops as souvenirs?
I’ll soothe the anguish and my aching pain
And finally I will forget my name
Eternity condemned my days be a chore
I put in my lace purse of sleep heartsore