The original last month
　　Harsh bearing constantly moan,
　　Their distance from the bottom of the wheel of the evening.
　　Dead trees, there is a pink moon
　　Tender and beautiful as flowers or mushrooms.
　　In the boredom of summer,
　　Vegetation dejected.
　　Occasional hint of cool
　　Reduce the excessive torture.
　　That is the gift of a windmill,
　　The silence of the pale
　　Issued a poetic rhythm of the water.
　　Mind like a full moon as simple as mint,
　　Manger came the colt sounds.
　　Integration into the night weeping willow
　　Had not shaved his head like a monk
　　In the dark ? Br> silently recite the Mourn by.
　　Every night in the fold, the
　　Mochizuki fields to gradually dim
　　Tu superior color.
　　Thus, aromatic leather Yiyi
　　Put magic pajamas;
　　Forest whistle,
　　Like unnecessary coast;
　　Quiet river
　　Gone down into the road.
　　White breeze
　　Brought us
　　Land on the cow to the fragrance
　　There are summer basil
　　That cow-like grazing
　　The smell of damp
　　And watermelon-like aroma.
　　That blue sky plain simple
　　Volunteer to give all the good should be high.
　　When the occasional lonely knights fight on after the original ... ...
　　After dark, the door will ring girl sigh, blessing.
　　When the moon rises from the air,
　　Light gray
　　As if the incense burner in the hot dipped.
　　Water in the endless dream
　　Funny roll.
　　Relaxed evening,
　　As gentle as ripe figs;
　　Moonlight Dream
　　Own entertainment, like a bird wings and sleep pillows.
　　When you wake up from sleep Fanran
　　Face has long been peppered with the glory of the dawn
　　Mochizuki has long gone,
　　Like the sea without leaving a trace the night sky marks.
　　Face endless disc,
　　Will produce a touching story,
　　In this heaven-like flat grassland
　　There is a sacred family left the illusion of Egypt.
　　That's when all the others:
　　Madonna and her Child,
　　San Jose (It has been fortunate to witness his thill)
　　And the other end in the next month could not walk on the prairie mule colt.
　　In the trivial banter memory,
　　All have been given the spirit of Argentina:
　　It sound strange bird cough ... ... ... ... the last sand cone
　　(I remember a good marksmanship) a horse ... ... two or three pedestrians
　　And have a gentle and hearty Juana who Pater Lorna
　　Between the parties.
　　Zenith remote control with the moon in the wilderness
　　The miracle of the soul in its
　　With the rhythm of the rules
　　Loitering, dissipated
　　If the hydrostatic lake swan around in a lengthy melting.
　　In this way,
　　Bathed in silver moonlight on the body from the wheel rolling across the horizon,
　　You spent a long night.
　　Acacia love is stronger:
　　As long as there is a trace of light on the prairie,
　　You will be silly unswerving.
　　Smoke linger like a cat ... ...
　　(Miriam letter translation)
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　　Flowers and stars
　　Silence enveloped the serene sea
　　It was a beautiful night.
　　Rising from the horizon, she mused.
　　Bent over the forehead was wearing a golden crown.
　　There are still lily initiation of land,
　　Star thoughts of her children riding up the heaven,
　　The rhythm of her agitation with the distant beach,
　　Children affects the long blue line of her heart.
　　Continuous extension of silence, as if already fallen into a hopeless situation,
　　Jasmine flowers withered off debate,
　　Sneaked into the bottom of my heart tears like a lengthy,
　　Like a meteor fallen from the sky disappeared.
　　Silent eyes, solemnly swept over the world,
　　She was in the sky looking down everything.
　　Shaking the universe from her impulse,
　　Flowers and stars are his eternal value.
　　Palace Orchard is the fragrance of the earth,
　　Murmured the night singing with vibrato lute.
　　In the desolate world, leaving only a pond,
　　Then there is no alternative but sadly sad stars.
　　(Miriam letter translation)
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　　Loss of nest
　　Only a little hay
　　Stay in the branches above,
　　A loyal bird
　　Sad to call in the forest.
　　The sky above, the following is the path
　　Ukraine will never stop the suffering of children,
　　Standing on the branches
　　Ask love.
　　It has been flying with grievances
　　Jojo singing along the road,
　　The soft hair of sheep
　　Along the needle on the left.
　　Poor, suffering birds,
　　It will only sing,
　　When it is singing in the tears drip
　　Because it could not find their nest room.
　　(Zhao Zhenjiang translation)
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　　White alone
　　Against the background of the dream of the quiet,
　　The quiet moonlight gleamed like satin,
　　Night
　　Like
　　Stillness of the body of a white,
　　Lying among the infinite tenderness
　　And in the avenues,
　　Clusters of leaves in the wonderful
　　Release
　　Strands of hair.
　　Nothing wake, in addition to Bell's eyes,
　　Tick in the gloomy tower,
　　Time and space to explore the infinite void
　　Like holes in the sand.
　　Unlimited time
　　With the clock round
　　Scroll
　　Never end if the carriage.
　　Dug up a white moon
　　Abyss of silence, in its opening
　　The death of the body have become all things
　　The shadows are alive, as if thinking.
　　It makes chilling, because the white in this
　　Death in close proximity,
　　Because the old moon with the magic control
　　The world is so beautiful;
　　The pain need to be loved
　　Trembling in the hearts of wounded.
　　There is a city of air,
　　Suspended almost invisible city
　　It is the shadowy outline of
　　A clear night in the form of monthly
　　Multiple planes
　　As the watermark on the paper.
　　This city so far,
　　It is absurd to make trouble in there.
　　This is a city or a boat?
　　In which we slowly abandoned the earth.
　　Quiet and peaceful, happy,
　　With such a pure,
　　Only our souls
　　To survive in the white full moon ... ...
　　Suddenly. Vague tremor
　　Passing serene light.
　　Lines disappear,
　　Infinite space into Whitehead,
　　In this ominous night
　　Can determine only one point: you are not there.
　　(Chen Xiaotang translation)
　　-------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------
　　Interest free
　　Lightly brush with the evening
　　Dotted quiet around me,
　　Green color gem
　　Has cast a ray of crimson.
　　Drilled a full moon trees;
　　Thicker foliage so lonely,
　　A spider's silk with it
　　Charming woven sky.
　　Bats fly in the dome
　　Like the Chinese wall;
　　Pale stone based on your knees
　　Elegant show signs of fatigue,
　　A muddy river under our feet
　　Silent flow of the nether.
　　(Zhao Zhenjiang translation)