I always can, hear the crying of billows,
In the gloomy distance, the ferry wearily prated,
I always going into blurred, feel a warmth which getting close to,
In the gap between sleeping and awakening, hear how sweet sound.
My ship had been dilapidated long, it stays quietly,
Recalls how many enamored days, it sailed in aroused,
How my siren sang the hope, in the breeze of morning,
Stride proudly ahead, marches joyfully, sang passionately,
My sun, my moon, my mountains, my sea,
Just is there, just in the sky line, on the piece of white land,
There were so beautiful legends and fantasies,
Just is there, just in the distance, pigeons is full of the red square,
I jumping, I hailing, I chasing, that best beauty white flower.
Silk fishes passing by, in this dim there had been no dazzling flash,
The raven water-snake, is wreathing around me,
Why I can not hear any sound, or I really leave the world far away?
Why I can not see a thread of the light, or those fishes do not visiting?
God, what fearful world it is, why my sense becomes obtuse?
God, what haircurling scene, why my body has been deform by the rust?
But my heart surprisingly even pulsates, and blood flows!
Slowly soaking out my cold body, my breath swallows and spits black water,
My ruined disabled body, even try to floats out of covet water surface!
Counting endless recollections, comes from faraway skyline,
When the sun burn red eastern horizon, when the morning sea mews,
Fleet near the water vocatively, I am still there,
have not heard the noizy of birds, and have not see the light blue sky...
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