Turn away your stares, quickly!
For the sight of her face scars
Dare not approach the disgrace!
For her contact might mark

Such a waste you might think
Once a promising blossom
Now simply a withered weed
Fallen from the stem to the ground

Such a lack of luck she endured
Once the morning’s pride
Now the nightfall’s victim
Imprisoned in its shadows

Such a regretful mistake she made
Once giving the world prodigal smiles
Now concealing monstrous tears
Reigning her defeated kingdom

Turn your backs on her, please!
Show interest and she’ll pull you down
Dare not grant her any alms!
Show sympathy you’ll end up the same