Epidemic, my memory knocks down those.
A red-faced, healthy-growing person.
Fierce rocks washed into the sea with overlapping waves,
The afternoon sun filled the quiet courtyard.
One o'clock, two o'clock, the little darkness of dust
Through the bustling fresh fish market;
I look for one in the depths of my memory.
Pale face: a man looking out the window at the sea-
The sea breeze cools the harp snail in my hand,
The sea breeze crossed the waves and took her away.
There was only night under the window she used to lean against.
Ran Ran rises, only my poor poem.
After doing it, I made a poor effort:
When was that day, when we woke up and went to the seaside?
At that time, the island around me didn't sigh.
Now someone turned to look at me,
Let me fully feel the falling of a leaf.
Turn the corner where strangers gather,
I once again witnessed the ancient scenery:
The ocean in the sun, the sleepy old horse,
But I'll never find the man who looks at the sea from the window!