So sadly is to think that soon,
Maybe tomorrow the alley tree,
Where you see them, they still will be
While us in grave will be decaying.

So sunny days, Oh God, so sunny,
Will come behind while we are not,
And all four seasons will cycle funny
With rain, snow, and flowers opened up.

And grass is still again to sprout,
And moon of course again will rise
To mirror in the water, although
We sure don’t have a second chance.

And strangely seems to me, to see,
That we have time to hate the others,
When life as a small drop behaves
Between this second and another.

And sadly seems to me, to see
That we don’t look toward the heaven,
That we don’t smile and gather flowers
While soon we'll die and it’s forever!