译BY莫须有 Her Ghost in the Fog 她的鬼魂徘徊于迷雾 The moon, she hangs like a cruel Portrait 月, 仿佛她令人痛楚的肖像 soft winds whisper the bidding of trees 绵软的风仿佛低语着森林的召唤 as this tragedy starts with a shattered glass heart 当悲剧开演之时,我的玻璃心脏已然支离 and the Midnightmare trampling