The energy rises
into a mountain,
and the grudge forms
into a rock.

On the way to Kum-Kang Mountain,
shaking off Princess Naklang's
beautiful and sad hands,
the Prince, MaouiTaeja, planted
a tree that has endured vigorously
to bear golden leaves.

Missing the old lover and
holding the beloved’s hand and
climbing to a mountain path,
you, with the old face
and white hair,

are the wind
or the cloud
or the moon's ray.

The sunset glows like a maple,
burning like the cheek’s rouge.

Missing you
with a face like a child's
Come to me
even in my dream

Tonight
the sound of yearning waves
is engraved in my heart.