How many dawns How many dusks One well-worn feeling Frequently hangs on my heart Perhaps some pleasant moments Perhaps some beautiful scenery Like a dream in the spring Vanished away without a trace Your warm feelings given to me Have already turned cold On the trail where we shared our stories of love Flowers fall, lying in confusion Alone I play out the chord of love And burst into sobs Whenever I think about you Again, love; again, hate Your heart, my heart They no longer resonate together A deep rooted, unforgettable feeling Carved on my heart, it has become hate