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我想唱的歌，至今尚未唱出。
我花费掉整日时光，一直在调试乐器。
那一时刻尚未到来，歌词尚未写好；
我心里满是希冀的烦恼。
花朵尚未打开，身边的风儿叹息而过。
我尚未见过他的面容，尚未听到他的声音；只听过他温柔的步履，从我屋前路过。
整整一天，我为他在地上摆好座椅；而灯尚未点亮，我无法请他走进我的家门。
我期待着与他见面，而会面的时间尚未到来。
The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day.
I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument.
The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart.
The blossom has not opened; only the wind is sighing by.
I have not seen his face, nor have I listened to his voice; only I have heard his gentle footsteps from the road before my house.
The livelong day has passed in spreading his seat on the floor; but the lamp has not been lit and I cannot ask him into my house.
I live in the hope of meeting with him; but this meeting is not yet.
