Keep silence, plz.

I sit at my window this morning where the world like a passer-by stops for a moment, nods to me and goes.

I sat in front of the window this morning, and the world was like a passer-by. After a while, I nodded to me and walked over again.

There little thoughts are the rustle of leaves; they have their whisper of joy in my mind.

These thoughts are the sounds of the leaves, and they whisper in my heart.

Some unseen fingers, like an idle breeze, are playing upon my heart the music of the ripples.

Some invisible hands, such as the lazy breeze, are playing the music in my heart.

Stray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away.

And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh.

The birds of summer flew to my window to sing and fly again.

The yellow leaves of autumn have nothing to sing, just sigh, and fly there.

 

Sorrow is hushed into peace in my heart like the evening among the silent trees.

Sorrow calmed down in my heart, just as twilight fell into the silent forest.