In Vientiane…

Both the

stars and the moon fell into the Mekong River,

It is becoming swelled like longing.

While embroidering the romance of the past

He whispers memories of the days he has lived.

Longing for the last humanity

Turning over the hidden innocence

How I lived my life

I draw it quietly.

The maze of unknown time

I can’t get out of it

It had no choice but to flow blindly.

The sighs of faint memories.

Drunk by the simple city lights

Clinking glasses

Holding on to this night,

I try to complain about love.