When you are old, gray-haired and sleepy,
Take a nap in front of the stove, please take down this poem.
Recite slowly and dream of your eyes.
Soft light and faint shadows;
How many people have loved your beauty with sincerity and hypocrisy,
Love your happy and charming youth,
Only one person loves your pilgrim heart,
Love the sadness on your aging face;
When you lean over the burning fireplace,
You will speak softly, with a hint of sadness,
The lost love is now going up the mountain,
Its face is hidden in a dense cluster of stars.