It's my own anklet that makes me shy.
When I stood on the balcony, listening to his footsteps, the leaves didn't shake, and the river was still like a sword on the knee of the sleeping sentry.
This is my own heartbeat-I don't know how to calm it down.
When my love comes, sit beside me, when my body trembles, my eyelids droop, the night deepens, the wind blows out the lights, and the clouds drag over the veil on the stars.
It's the baby on my chest that shines. I don't know how to hide it.
Only roots and leaves,
It is the fragrance brought to men and women from Shan Ye and ponds.
Pink flowers and sorrel of love, fingers are tighter than vines,
The song of songbirds hiding in the leaves after the sun rises,
The breeze of land and love blowing from the active shore blows to you and to you on the active sea.
The breeze of our sailors,
When winter goes and spring comes, berries ripened in the frost flowers and twigs in March are presented to people roaming in the fields.
Bud,
The bud of love that appears in front of any of you, in your hearts,
Those buds that will remain open,
As long as you give them sunshine-like warmth, they will open and bring you shape, color and fragrance.
Xin,
They will become flowers, fruits, tall branches and trees, if you become nutrients and water.