ខ្នងដៃ

Now she shifts her back, betraying me, farmer

Fold the palms of the hands, the back of the hands.

Promise the palm of the hand, the back of the hand

The palms of the hands are also fleshy, the back of the hands are also fleshy

They ask for tears to be shed on the back of the hand

I promise and talk to the palms of my hands

My back is never dry because I wipe my tears every day

Everything is upside down and the palms of the hands turn into the back of the hand _ black turns into good, turns into bad, weak becomes strong