I sprawl out on the fragrant spring field
Delight my eyes upon golden horizon
A sigh flickers
In the deep sky a white sloop glides on

Phantoms of love lost children
Skip rope among brilliant woods
In their picnic baskets
Mud's smells are stuffed up
Instead of buicuits

I feel incline to weep
Carve the word 'love' on the earth
Carve the word 'hate' on the earth
By the knife which I always hold it tight in my hand
The spring is now sweet feeling in pain as well as I am