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