And now the lowest pine-branch

And now the lowest pine-branch

Is drawn across the disk of the sun.

Old friends who will forget me soon,

I must go on

Towards those blue death mountains

I have forgot so long.

In the marsh grasses

There lies forever

My last treasure,

With the hope of my heart.

The ice is glazing over;

Torn lanterns flutter,

On the leaves is snow.

In the frosty evening

Toll the old bell for me

Once, in the sleepy temple.

Perhaps my soul will hear.

Afterglow:

Before the stars peep

I shall creep into the darkness.