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When ashes seal up the frosted eave,When chrysanthemums turn into dewdrops in fall,I use the wilted vines to make luggage,To go to a place far from home, covered with thistles and thorns. When the earth is covered with leaves felled in sorrow,When azaleas become faraway fog,Wish me well, the loved one I miss the most,That's the view of my back when I tell you goodbye. Maybe the melancholy that has lost its way will tear my footsteps,But I believe that the future will give me a pair of wings from dreams.Even though the frustrating pain has already bruised me black and blue,I firmly believe the light is in the distance. Maybe the perplexed journey will tear at my arms,But I believe that the future will give me a pair of wings from dreams.Even though the wounds from setbacks have already made me stuck,I firmly believe the light is in the distance. I use my wings to rise up towards the waves at the horizon,I use my body to drag [myself] up to the blood-red sun.In the piercing and bitterly cold gales,You will hear my shout praising the future. Maybe the melancholy that has lost its way will tear my footsteps,But I believe that the future will give me a pair of wings from dreams.Even though the frustrating pain has already bruised me black and blue,I firmly believe the light is in the distance. Maybe the perplexed journey will tear at my arms,But I believe that the future will give me a pair of wings from dreams.Even though the wounds from setbacks have already made me stuck,I firmly believe the light is in the distance. |
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