百年孤寂 [bǎinián gūjì] [English translation]

The heart belongs to you

I borrowed it to repose myself, only to be haunted by it

Whom do you belong to?

I passed by you accidentally, only to bring ebb and flow

All because of the long journey

Where there used to be a heavy rain, proving that you had been here

But when I closed my eyes, and opened them again

I only saw the desert—Where are the said-to-be camels?

The silhouette getting away is real, while the person is false

Nothing is persistent

A century ago, you were not you and I was not me

The sorrow is concrete, while the tears are faked

Nothing should have a cause

A century after, neither you nor me will exist

The wind belongs to the sky

I borrowed it for its coolness, only to find what is inevitable

Whom does the sky belong to?

I borrowed it for appreciation, only to see your figure under it

All because of the long journey

Where there used to be a heavy rain, proving that you had been here

But when I closed my eyes, and opened them again

I only saw the desert—Where are the expected camels?

The silhouette getting away is real, while the person is false

Nothing is persistent

A century ago, you were not you and I was not me

The sorrow is concrete, while the tears are faked

Nothing should have a cause

A century after, neither you nor me will exist