Alone, the scenery of the mountain temple

A life hanging at the end of the sunset across the sky

 Even if it sounds like a winding sound and a plea

 Quietly close your eyes for me

My beloved who always smiles!

 Reflecting on fate,

I told my hands neatly together,

In the deep night, mountain temples hold up the darkness,

 Only consistent mercy.

The trembling sound of the wooden gong

 Tearing open my chest tightly bound by obsession,

The flesh of luck tainted by the secular world

I took it out completely.

Finally, the final hesitation 

Unable to take it out or take it off

Clenched tightly, tears soaking

What exactly is the remaining one?

The night I am alone deepens

The anguish wrapped around the hem of red ginseng,

 Soothe with the lingering rich aroma

I tried hard to cut off the remaining ones.

Sitting there as is, turning to stone

The true meaning hidden behind a smile

 Some places, buried in the candlelight,

I just sighed deeply and felt sorry.

Before I knew it, for alms at dawn,

Still, I comfort myself with the time I have left,

Already, piled up in the fog,

I stand up, brushing the dust off my feet.