You are in the middle of nowhere.
If you were a well, no one would take a sip,
If you were a path, no one would set foot,
How can a foreigner get what you feel?
You climb a mountain, you find a tree,
You deck it with ornaments, turn it into your bride.
Then you see the clouds,
Then you see the clouds,
Then you see the clouds,
The frothing clouds heading your way.
But what else can be done?
Desolation of the world is ringing out at the bottom of my heart.
I wouldn't wish such solitude on my worst enemy!