Rest in peace, rest in peace,
Long-tortured poet!
Hear your own songs
Accompany your spirit!

As the nation was in peril,
You embraced the hunchbacked people
With your bleeding hands,
Singing bloodstained orations
For the holy hunchbacked people.
For a nation has risen!
A nation has risen!

In River Hukang's valley of death,
Thousands of comrades-in-arms
Perished in the nation's defense
And left their heroic spirits
To grow in the tree trunks.
And you returned from the dead,
To look forward to a new dawn.

Yet at noon you fell into darkness.
At the very end of illusion,
Love, friendship, ideal
All turned into ashes,
For life is after all
A deadly winter,
A deadly winter.

Grieve now, hunchbacked people!
For your bard has fallen,
And you have not risen,
You have not yet risen.

Rejoice now, heavenly choirs!
For a poet has risen
From the ashes of death
For a poet has risen!

2002