Beautiful snowscapes as they are,
A sad story waiting for the owner,
On his shoulders is a thousand-year dream,
The sadness of trembling with loneliness
It is a shadow.
With the love of all the people in the world
It is as if I have written a poem.
But I don’t know anything
To the poets
Only longing is holding out its hand like a sigh.
It was a dream, but it was too vivid a reality to do
In a part of memory
A fact that is not engraved with it,
Tied like an eternal destiny
A thousand years of love, a thousand years of fragrance like our destiny
Now I sigh deeply in my heart.
And I hope to dream more beautifully,
Because of love, we keep a happy smile
To love only sincerity, innocence
It is buried in the Jungfrau of the Alps.