On the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, the flower market is brightly lit.
The moon rose to the willow tree, and he met me at dusk.
On the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth day of the first month of this year, the moonlight and lights are still the same as last year.
I will never see my old friend last year again, and my tears are soaked through my clothes.
Others have some clips:
Moths, snow willows, gold thread, laughter, fragrance, far away.
I've looked for him thousands of times,-
Suddenly looking back, the man was there, dimly lit!
You live at the head of the Yangtze River and you live at the end of the Yangtze River.
I miss you every day and drink the Yangtze River water.