There is a Cafe-shop on the Crossroads...
There are a stove and a fire...
My love and I wold smear it with secrets...
I came back and found inside.. two young lovers...
Sitting on out chair.. robbing us the Path...

O'Yellow(Autumn) leaves.. we are growing old, we are growing old...
Roads!, Houses! are growing old...
The world would come to and end, and only you,
O' My Homeland...You are forever a young child...

Like an arrow coming back after travelling through times...
I cross the streets.. not even one human smiles to me!!...
All my friends have grown old.. what was, is now no more...
they have become the past... they become the gold of oblivion...