A slight ripple occurred in time, as the breeze was blowing
The seed fell into the ground
My life is like a dry leaf, and it is the last one hanging on the tree
The sun doesn't shine
The rain doesn't fall
The soil is poor
It is the evil tree
Spring never comes, so the seed can't sprout
It took roots in muddy lands, where it absorbing the sorrow
Then, the wind blows