When you leave,  
sickened by the sight of me,  
I will send you away without a word.  

I will scatter an armful of  
azaleas from Yaksan in Yŏngbyŏn  
over the path you leave by.

Go, and let each footfall fall  
gently, tenderly  
on the flowers I have left for you.  

When you leave,  
sickened by the sight of me,  
even if I die, no tears will fall.