I got nothing from all this, and my forehead was half white. Eyes wandering, a full face of gloom. With a lot of luggage, it is difficult to lift your legs. Time has given me a hundred pounds of meat, but have I left a fortune or two? This poem means that life is only a few decades, because there is no time to grasp, no struggle, no effort. When you are old, you don't mean to get anything.
Dreams are empty. When I was young, I aspired to three thousand miles.
In a blink of an eye, the hall was full of white hair, and the children stumbled in school. A few pieces of broken silver make people old, but there are not many hearts, and wrinkles are quietly on the eyebrows. Drifting drunk and dreaming, the teenager is still the same, only sighing that time is too hasty.
Yesterday, I was ignorant, but I had a thousand memories. I have been confused for several years, and I am worried about my partner. I haven't played north and south yet, and my forehead is covered with wrinkles. Looking at that expectant face from a distance, my heart is hard to be wide. Only I am fat and live up to expectations.