Yesterday, winter, it\'d rainy all day,
It ceased, but very dark this morn,
On the plaza, the pigeons are hopping like the ballet
And chipping away at something like the corn.
The thick fogs are twisting the trees,
Under the trees it\'s mistily drizzling,
The lane of park, the twenty lis
Are shrouded in mystery, there\'s the misting fogging.
Early morn, the city is clean,
But one place is exceptional in this country,
People live an atomic in their heads, but they keen
As mustards for concealing their criminal history.
Like other dimension, to the mist, it\'s sorrow,
The People are fading away in the park
And in spite of the splendidness, the nation\'s morrow
And the achievements are going to disappear in dark.