Because of you, when I stood by the blooming garden, the fragrance of spring stung me.
I have forgotten your beauty, your delicate hands and how your lips kissed.
Because of you, I like the white statue lying in the park. Those white statues are silent and there is nothing to see.
I have forgotten your voice-your cheerful voice; I have forgotten your eyes.
Just as flowers can't live without the fragrance of flowers, I cut out the hazy memory of you.
I am like a painful wound. As long as you touch it, I will be greatly hurt at once.
Your tenderness haunts me like ivy on a gloomy wall.
I have forgotten your love, but I vaguely see you from every window.
Because of you, the dull breath of summer stung me. Because of you, I pay attention to all kinds of signs that ignite desire, peep at meteors and everything that falls.