The white dew condenses into frost in late autumn.
The people I miss day and night,
On the other side of the river.
Looking upstream,
This road is dangerous and long.
Look for it downstream,
It seems to be in the middle of the water.
The reeds by the river are lush,
The dew is still wet in the morning.
My ghost,
Just across the river.
Looking upstream,
The road is rugged and difficult to climb.
Look for it downstream,
It seems to be in the middle of the sandbar.
The reeds by the river are more lush,
The Millennium still lingers in the morning.
The person I'm looking for,
Just across the river.
Looking upstream,
This road is dangerous and circuitous.
Look for it downstream,
Like a sandbar in the water.