A wet pillow is all I have,
To rest my hot head upon,
Looking up the roof as sleep slipped,
Refusing to take me away to lands without bothers,
Who will hear me out?
Who can understand my pain?
Sure, no one will.
Permit me to close my eyes,
So sleep would just take me away,
To the fantasy I have never seen or heard,
As my hot head spread to my limbs,
Bail me out of I freeze,
This silent night that refuses to dawn,
Mother's hand my only solace far away.
Arise! Oh you from the pouch,
Where your hidden voice purges forth,
A call from within my subconscious,
Asking me to hold hands with an unknown figure,
Trembling like a chick beaten by rain,
I felt the cold hands of mother caressing my face,
So that my sleep would be peaceful,
That I had not got a sound sleep this silent night.