A city wrapped in busyness.

This city wakes up before dawn,
Even though sleep doesn't break, my eyes are tired.
The blue sky is covered in smoke,
The light comes, but it doesn't keep peace.

People are walking—unknown, unseen,
All faces are the same line.
A weight on the chest, a smile on the face,
An unwritten gallows dies inside.

Dreams die standing at the signal,
Stories fall on the traffic horn.
Some old faces in the tea shop,
Even their eyes don't have happiness today.

Skyscraper brick walls,
Covered by the moon, covered by the good.
Still I love the city,
This is where my story-habits have developed.

This busyness, this tired smoke,
Still I love in my heart.