The day will come when you loathe me  
and leave me;  
Goodbye, that's all, it's over.

I'll have them strew your road with  
azaleas  
from Yaksan in Yongbyon

Then be off with you  
marching briskly  
over those withered petals.

The day will come when you loathe me  
and leave me;  
you think I'll cry? Not on your life. I won't!