Remembrance of Mudanjiang

, is called . .



bent into a curved bridge reflected in the other end of the lake
you see it from a happy to see the moonlight on
quartzite you and I walked the old streets The period of mottled brick walls where
Findler
now in the end are called to distant
can not go back home

name is Woo ~
who sang at the door I listened to the song sentimental Mudanjiang
your voice clear and melodious sound

wind chimes sway riverside village who nap at the door like a serene
Mudanjiang
singing the song my steps toward the Qing Xiang
around you miss the window of light penetration into the warmth of
silver sprinkled in childhood bed

Mudanjiang bend bend a few little fish say nothing we do not care
fishing boat Net in make up the moon under the stars to drink a bowl of home Grandpa Mudanjiang
say nothing of bending a few bends Shrimps loading dock we do not have an empty net in
fishing for the moon to make stars grandma soup bowl home