-Living in foggy weather
When the rotten mountain flowers give off fragrance
Kiss my tired face
Lying in the mother's arms like a baby.
The mountain is no longer a mountain, but a backbone.
Water is no longer water, but blood.
I'm not me anymore.
My mother is a practical and beautiful land.
When the smoke comes like a robber.
There is nowhere to hide, but pray for an isolated landscape turtle to rest.
Mountains are no longer mountains, but garbage.
Water is no longer water, but waste liquid.
I'm not me anymore.
I am buried deep in this flooded planet and can't breathe.
So I long for a timely rain.
Wash off all the dust.
Let the suffocating melancholy leave no sigh
We live and die tenaciously here.
Will be here with you.
Green shoots gurgled through the stream.
Patches of red leaves and snow.
Day after day, year after year, generation after generation.
Grow up stubbornly and grow old healthily.
Deeply rooted here