Bloom's green window grilles are warm in spring, and the moon shadows are swaying to draw walls.
Under the independent sky, the sound of self-destruction in Leng Xiang.
Flowers look up at the sky against the stone, and a bright moon reflects the cold star.
A garden of flowers and clothes, blue as jade, silver under the moon.
The night is as cold as dew, and the flower cage is hazy and bright.
The dew is cold, the wind is cold, the string is frozen, complaining to the east wind and crying!
Flowers fly all over the sky and reflect the moon. How can flying flowers know my heart?
Red rain flew on the strings, and my fingers were stained with blood.
Starlight shines on the soul of flowers under the moon, lonely for many years.
The stars are so different from last night. Who is the independent moon?
This heart is lonely and unique, and only flowers and the moon accompany me.
The moon is like ice and snow, and the flowers in bloom fall and the moon is lacking.
I don't know who the moon shines on, but the wind is tight and tears are deep in the middle of the night.
When the moon falls and the flowers fall, a string breaks and no longer smells!