The sun sets down,
Purple hues cover the sky like a gown.
People go back home,
As the fireflies start to roam.

Laughter fades into silence,
Fading away to a further distance.
The pole star shines like a diamond,
Telling about the past in an old legend.

Looking back on their day,
The crowds hence say,
These are the memories we shall keep,
The quiet harvest of our humble actions we shall reap.

Binding the past and future, the present is like a rope,
Igniting dreams which guide us towards hope.
And, hence, the old legend was right,
As everything, at last, gets lost in the twilight.