When you leave,  
Grown weary of me  
I will gently let you go.

An armful of azaleas  
From Yaksan, Yongbyon,  
I will gather to adorn your path.

Tread softly,  
Step by step,  
Upon the flowers as you go.

When you leave,  
Grown weary of me,  
I will bite my lips to stop my tears.