I would hate babysitting beyond the Bon festival.
The snow begins to fall, and the baby cries.
How can I be happy, even when Bon festival is here?
I don't have nice clothes, I don't have an obi sash to wear.
This child continues to cry, and is mean to me.
Everyday, I grow thinner.
I would quickly quit here and go back.
To the other side of the mountain I can see, my parent's house.
To the other side of the mountain I can see, my parent's house.
