Scattering despairs underground of the terrible soul of Romeo Under a shakable noise, my poor lips are shaking for fear that I shall never get the bless from your light Led away by time flow, without minding the truth of life my tears dropping on my knees making a little pond of sorrow Whirled into the meaningless movements, tired of life itself my soul was trapped in the forest of the thorns Longing for the salvation of your kiss, your touch, I cried under the darkness of heart as yesterday said