The person, whom I murdered, was enjoying my identity. Not until the clouds cover the moon, not until the birds

पहाड, हावा, बग्ने खोलाहरू, मानौ सबैलाई उसको कथा थाहा छ। उसले गाउने गीतहरूको धुन जसले रातलाई बिऊझाउथे, निदरीका सपनाहरु आकाशमाथि

Thy memories often tease me in my dream, I still remember the kind stream. Where we met on rainy days,