In the sky, the River of Stars is moving.
In the world of mortals,my curtains are hanging down.
It is getting chilly on my tear-soaked pillow and mat.
I get up to losen my silk robe, wondering how advanced is the night.
Tinyy the lotus seeds hugged by petals emerald-colored.
Few the arrowroot leaves in faded shades of gold.
The same old weather and the same old robe,
But my feeling s and thoughts differ from those of byone times.