Behold the Cowherd Star hung aloft at night,watching with a lonely unrest,his weaving maid ahead.
Her figure so slender,her fingers white as snow.Clicker, clatter, her loom incessantly goes.
Her work still not ended when a day's gone.Her tears pour,like endless raindrops down.
The moving waters of the Milky Way so innocent and clear. Why would thou sever me from my fair love dear?
Gaze, for ever, at the eternal ablution against the heavenly shores.
Tenderly,feel the human fragility, and utter no word.