Outside the long pavilion, beside the ancient road, the green grass reaches the sky.
The evening wind blows the willow flute, and the sun sets outside the mountain.
At the end of the sky, at the corner of the sea, there are only a few close friends.
A ladle of turbidity spreads all the remaining joy, don’t sleep in the cold tonight.
Outside the long pavilion, beside the ancient road, the green grass reaches the sky.
I asked you when you will come here, but don’t linger when you come.
At the end of the sky, at the corner of the sea, there are only a few close friends.
Life is rarely about reunions, only about separations