When the bell rings sweetly
I can't help thinking quietly.
Our heat wave is rolling in
Run to the eternal hometown.
. . . . . .
I hung on a crooked branch.
Shake my fatigue and let me sleep.
A bird invited me to visit.
I rest in its nest.
Yes, I know my background.
Hunger is like a flame.
Burning and exhausting myself.
Everything I caught turned into light.
. . . . . . .