there was a boy |
thick eyebrows
|
She used to love a girl with clear eyes
|
She wrote a letter saying that she would have sex with her iron-like young heart until the seventh day of the seventh lunar month.
|
A few walnuts in my pocket, scattered memories in a stream
|
The words her mother said the other day
|
One day, a girl on my back exhaled a small breath.
|
Said she's carried away by the wind and can't come back
|
I kneel on the side of a field in early autumn
|
A young tramp wandering in memory
|
Tears flow in one of her memories
|
She sat down in the longing-stained stream
|
The old yellow crow cried again
|
light pink sweater
|
the wind blows |
Make me cry and fly away, over the misty hills
|
Where are you who left without a word following the sad wind?
|
Those who love always follow their own arrows
|
A fantasy-like love, an unreachable destination
|
Inside the bony fingers, the old note that was torn in half
|
Memories can't be captured anyway
|
Find an old love hidden on the railroad tracks
|
Find your face among the flowers in full bloom on the road
|
Find hidden pictures that come to mind when you close your eyes
|
In front of memories of childhood like scars
|
We put the puzzle together piece by piece
|
Another sad anxiety big anxiety
|
The tragedy that awaited me in the middle of my dreams
|
A beautiful tragedy of knowing one love as if attacking the world
|
there was a boy |
thick eyebrows
|
I used to love a girl with clear eyes
|
the wind blows |
Make me cry and fly away, over the misty hills
|
Where are you who left without a word following the sad wind?
|
the wind blows |
Make me cry and fly away, over the misty hills
|
Where are you who left without a word following the sad wind? |