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by Henry Wordsworth Longfellow(1807-1882) (What The Heart Of The Young Man Said To The Psalmist.) ​ Tell me not, in mournful numbers, "Life is but an empty dream!" For the sould is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem...

the sky. ​ It was dozens of sorrowful things. ​ Squeak squeak squeak! ​ Gais swung the spear. ​ A storm arose. ​ The mournful spirits shifted their orbits in the air. ​ "Storm trust." ​ Kwaaaang! ​ The blade of the storm sliced across the giant...

In Your Eyes The road stretches far under fading skies With hollow cliffs and headlights Lies dusty boots Tap a mournful tune as the sun surrenders to the moon 저물어가는 하늘 아래 길은 아득히 뻗어 있고 텅 빈 절벽과 헤드라이트 불빛...

a thick hemp robe, shaving his head, and shaving his beard, the situation will not change. After hearing the mournful cries, even the soldiers who seemed like the last bastion lose their fighting spirit. There is nowhere left to lean on...