The evening breeze blows in Penghu Bay, the white waves chase the beach There is no coconut grove with setting sun, just a piece of sea blue Sitting on the low wall in front of the door, thinking over and over again Also on the beach at dusk, there are two and a half footprints That's when my grandmother held a cane and gently pulled my hand Stepping on the twilight towards the afterglow, the warm Penghu Bay A footprint is a string of laughter that kills a lot of time Until the night engulfs ...