Nearby, some dogs in the way are playing.
I don't care about the world, I want to kick it down,
Mother stared at them as if I were in a trance.
Look! How happy they are,
Completely immersed in their own happy world.
Is anybody there?
Go out early and come home late, get busy,
Repeat the same thing every day,
Although the two are the same,
That naughty but smiling face,
This helplessness turned into sadness,
Go complain,
A hasty choice of three sacred stones,
Because the choice is the same person,
My promise, perhaps the promise of tears,
I need to finish my task.
I may fail. Empty the other body.
What about this world?
There will always be, maybe I'm not in this crowd.
If the saint rejects me,
Let me step back and turn to a sad and melancholy person.
But I have to use the blood of my life to irrigate my sadness.
It is sad to be a saint,
I won't do that. This is your sorrow.
Far away, close at hand.
Seemingly sad,
The mission of dogs.