The sweet hymn is great, and the lamb is killed.

An Elgur dog waddled through the frost,

Palm tree leaves with a reproachful expression.

Looking at it, wayward waves rushed to my feet.

I dodged. At night, yellow light.

Clean the beach. That Friday,

Except for women with matching clothes,

What else did you find? Nobody found me.

How did this happen? Here,

Even the names of plants will be recorded,

This road will be marked with a red line on the map.

At night, the sky is black paper full of pinholes.