As a child, you held me in your arms,

Walking and humming nursery rhymes;

The evening wind is not so sultry,

Summer bugs are less noisy.

I look into your tender eyes,

So I know what the quiet lake looks like;

I put my head on your shoulder,

Smell your hair,

So I know the richness of flowers and fruits after the rain.

When I grew up, you sent me to the airport,

I dare not look back;

Thinking of a quiet lake,

Smell the aroma of flowers and fruits.