Bells

As clouds who streams in this endless lines
I look at the night on a mournful gaze,
Watching the rays of the fading moonshines
As tears flow down in my sorrowful face;

Toward blackboards of withered flowers
Who draws landscapes in pale twilights,
I see the dismay on my darkest hours
As leading astray his ethereal insight;

When dirges resound from a dead sunrise
As frightening chants of trembling yells,
The whispers recall the approaching demise
Where echoenings toll from the shivering bells.