At the scene of the injury, the high city was in ruins and the lights were dim.
In the crowd, I searched for her again and again in vain. When I suddenly turned my head, I found her there, dimly lit.
There are countless fireworks in the long street. You look back with the lights, the pavilions are short, the world of mortals is rolling, and I sigh again.
Listen to the string and break three thousand infatuations. Falling flowers, forgetting, once the wind rippled. If the flower is pitiful, it will fall on whose fingertips.
Spring goes and spring comes, beauty is old, flowers fall and people die.
Still water, singing; Three lives are sunny and round, one sad and one happy.
Lights and stars, sounds and songs are endless.
My heart is moving, but I feel far away. Things are wrong, people are wrong, things are wrong, and the past cannot be traced.
I want to talk to Yao Qin, but I have few intimate friends. Who will listen to a broken string?
All day, I miss you twice, pining for you, when flowers bloom.
I don't regret that my belt is getting wider and wider, which makes people haggard for Iraq.