These stories and praises I hear.

What can I say about it father?

Neither I am a saint, nor I am a coward.

I am just a lover, who desperately wait for dawn (love) to arrive soon.

so this dew glisten in the morning sun.

This is a play in which I am engrossed.

Don’t know where else my thought will linger?

I say things and dare not to openly utter.

O my despair heart, You might stop me to utter my love,

but let me grab some flower to whom I love.

~ Meet