Out of the window of the quiet night
is a group of spirits,
On the right are the meteors of yours，
On the left is ａ bright moon of mine.
The world is so quiet now,
There‘s the darkness still blooming,
There’s a light that’s not awake yet to has fun.
I confess it,
There’re many scenes that aren’t lustful.
I confess it,
There’s brewing a lot of determination
from all the hopes and lines.
The night had come without ａsmile,
Setting with silence and cold.
May you can look at the bright moon at this time again，
May you can wish for the meteors
without any doubts or pains.