With blowing an oaten pipe,
The vales and hills in spring,
I'm longing for the oldie home town.
Beep, Pi-l nil ni ri!
With blowing an oaten pipe,
The green grass hills in blooming,
I'm longing for the days of childhood.
Beep, Pi-l nil ni ri!
With blowing an oaten pipe,
The street where people are living,
I'm longing the human affairs.
Beep, Pi-l nil ni ri!
With blowing an oaten pipe,
How many years roaming,
I'm passing the slope with tears.
Beep, Pi-l nil ni ri!
(Translated by Kinsley Lee)
(Original Poem, written by Ha-Uhn, Han)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem