It’s dark in everywhere, that place is pure Light..
God, is it sunset or grave?..
Is it the place? where my darling is asleep?..
This’s not a dream, the truth itself.
Her grave’s become a mausoleum made of flower..
That mausoleum’s turned out to a bride-chamber..
If your mausoleum’s turned out to a bride-chamber,
Open your bed to me, I am your lover..