Author Kitano
You said your hometown is in Qinghai.
I think white clouds are like sheep, white clouds are like sheep.
Riding alone in the sunset
On the horizon
A distant and desolate song
You said your grandmother was a Tibetan girl.
I believe your mixed-race father.
He must be handsome. Where's your mother?
Must have your black hair, too.
And your innocent bright eyes
At dusk in a foreign land
You told me your big blood.
The Yarlung Zangbo River in my veins began to surge.
We are all lost seeds and our hometown is far away.
Like a silent wind chime
I can't go back. I can never go back.
Even your beautiful eyes and my hoarse voice
Will also be anxious.
Miss each other