

In a minute, half of the dusk has fallen like part of flower,
Another minute, it hides behind a sea of mountains.
At the terminal of the sea, our longing encounters—
The airport, a grand hall that assigns directions.
Airplanes are flocks of birds, returning to their nests,
And they line up to enter the night dreams.
For some, landing is a new journey,
For others, landing is a return.
Life has taken me to many cities,
And granted me countless sunsets,
So that on every strange night,
I recall the perch of twilight airport.
Life has given me the entire world,
And thus made me live in haste.