I’m walking the same old path again.

Stepping the same old steps on the plain.

Every road is colorful

Like a lily in its pool.

The doors are always open.

All of them will never be gone

Unless one harsh word is given;

Then there will be none.

Everyone lent their kindness;

All the world’s loneliness

Seems to be less and less.

Until that fatal tempest.

One night I ambled under the moon–

Her borrowed bright shined on me.

And the breeze cold as doom

Is my companion instantly.

Because an old man sang a tune:

“Your borrowed bliss is not for thee.

You’ll bid it your good-bye too soon,

As nothing in this life is free.”

I ignored him and I shouted:

“For worries, there is no room!”

Just then a black cat passed me

And the breeze cold as doom

Is my companion instantly.

The doors were once broadly open.

All of them were never gone.

Until one misfortune happened

And there seems to be none.