A light wind

一缕轻风

brushing the poplar grove

拂过那白杨林

starts but one leaf

惟一叶

shaking.

晃动。

Dawn,

晨曦，

gold on her fingertip,

她指尖上的金，

touches one bird

将一只鸟

waking.

点醒。

So your voice

于是你的声音

in this crowded room

在这拥塞的房间里

leaves one heart

留下一颗心

quaking.

砰訇。