The autumn wind is bleak, on a night when the autumn wind blows and leaves fall,
How can one let the lonely heart rest
In a dream where there are no yearnings...
A solitary lamp, a lone shadow, and the heart sits alone in front of the window of memory,
Listening to the disordered sound of the wind outside the window, listening to the sound of falling raindrops.
In the curtain of rain, the night is shrouded in a misty haze of water vapor,
Thoughts flow quietly along with the accumulated water, forming a river,
Flowing slowly towards the distance, until finally only the longing lost in the clouds and mist diffuses endlessly.