You're the kid with the frankincense.
You are the one who got drunk and got rid of his troubles.
Your stubborn and dark lips
Endured countless centuries of thirst.
When those fruits were still green
You still have to wander.
Your immortal genius and spirit
There are no clocks in the ancestral hall.
Further than your military songs.
Any redemption is futile.
I know someone has been angry with you.
I'm pregnant with the piano and flute, and I'm pregnant with wine as long as we
More transparent and painful whistle.
two
The pallor of the times floats on the ruins.
Even the sad time is omitted.
A piece of bamboo tied with three red ropes.
I can't believe I let you read all night.
Your sad face
Shine on the beach
Dream wife, dancing in your soul.
Announce its occupation in a shining way.
How many whispers, because you are exhausted.
In this elegant land
You will only frown for your time.
Imagine a shooting star on your horizon.
We must brew manna in a fiery heart.
three
Master ink, carrying hundreds of millions of years of cold.
After billions of years of roughness.
You use the snow from the whole Qinling Mountains.
It is difficult to achieve the Shu road in the sky.
Thin clothes haven't changed.
The autumn frost leaks at night, which is a drop of Leng Yue's soul.
In your surname, it says Huazhang.
My heart is flowing under your plank road.
I rode here alone.
A string of flames, burning in the horse's eyes
Sunshine bursts with milk and wets dreams.
I need the baptism of this soul.
Shout out the wildness of my life.