When thinking about the past of love, I think
The hundred of love have peeped at this heart
But I do not know why,
You accept defeat
Why do not you hide in the cover?
Do not remember the spring time of that day?
Where you wrote a diary a pink diary,
I did mind exchange.
Have a dream, wake up on the moon and the night
My love spat on me
Nevertheless I do not say come back to my nijhum-kuthere
The more you keep your memory in this chest.