Living on a sandbar in the river.
Kind and beautiful girl,
My hero's good spouse.
Shepherd's purse is uneven in length,
Fishing on the left and right sides of the boat
Kind and beautiful girl,
I miss her day and night.
Missing and pursuing are unattainable,
Wake up and dream of Sauvignon Blanc.
I miss you very much,
Tossing and turning is hard to sleep.
Shepherd's purse is uneven in length,
The girl went to pick around.
Kind and beautiful girl,
Play the harp and get close to her.
Shepherd's purse is uneven in length,
The girl went around to choose.
Kind and beautiful girl,
Drumming ceremony, getting married.
The reeds by the river are blue and green.
The white dew condenses into frost in late autumn.
The people I miss day and night,
On the other side of the river.
Go upstream and pursue her,
This road is dangerous and long.
Look for it downstream,
It seems to be in the middle of the water.
The reeds by the river are lush,
The dew is still wet in the morning.
My ghost,
Just across the river.
Go upstream and pursue her,
The road is rugged and difficult to climb.
Look for it downstream,
It seems to be in the middle of the sandbar.
The reeds by the river are more lush,
The Millennium still lingers in the morning.
The person I'm looking for,
Just across the river.
Go upstream and pursue her,
This road is dangerous and circuitous.
Look for it downstream,
Like a sandbar in the water.
It was a dead dusk, which filled the whole sky.
A desolate, empty. The yellow leaves left behind write down the depression in autumn. I am alone, beside the gurgling water in a foreign land, meditating silently and playing with white water drops. Purify the mind with things and get rid of this complicated world.
Suddenly, I vaguely heard a song in the distance. There was no one in Fiona Fang, Fiona Fang for 500 miles. What's that noise at the moment? That voice, crisp and beautiful, whirls around the ears like nature, making people addicted, forgetting secular thoughts, and still lingering around the quiet. Suddenly looking back, I saw an angel on the other side where Jia Jian grew up, dressed in simple clothes, wading along the river like shoes and humming a ditty like a cloud. River wind, gently blowing her delicate smile, fluttering her green hair, reflected in the water, like swaying green algae in the water. She raised her head, brushed the hair that covered her eyes with her hand, and slowly wiped the crystal sweat from her forehead. Her innocence, in the shadow of the sunset, left a belated photo. I have a bird's eye view of a hibiscus flower wading in the water, with a high posture. Her wind instrument is amazing in my heart-the image of innocence deeply touched me.
I like it, too. I didn't know there was only one young boy left in the dusk at the moment. Everything in sight becomes illusory from this time on.
Perhaps, this kind of waiting is just a kind of waiting that will never have an answer, but I can't bear to leave. I don't understand how long it will take you to show up. Today or next year. Maybe, forever ...
My intuition didn't tell me where she was going. I want to find the place where she keeps her feet again, but I don't know where she is taking her youth. Maybe, like me, she is a passer-by in a different place, and maybe this really shouldn't be our place to stay. However, love keeps sprouting in my heart, such as the bud on the tip of cardamom, which is bound to bloom. So, I wander by the river every day. Whenever dusk comes, I watch cockroaches swaying in the wind, and dew condenses into frost. I remember one day she waded across the other side, humming a ditty. I can wait, but I can wait day after day, and all I get is melancholy-she's gone forever. The wind is cold, the frost falls from the sky, and the autumn water is thin. I can miss you, like a steel wire, and I can't let it go day and night. But this is an unrealistic daydream. I am still in my prime, waiting for you in the same place.
She, not far from me, is like smelling the fragrance of flowers in the mist, and the flowers are just amazing on the other side, which seems to be close at hand and inaccessible. What may not be close is an unreadable heart.
I am silent by the water. Mika, dotted with turbid air, makes it as quiet as water. I only wish I didn't swim across the river. Think of your smile and look down at it. You look pale. Meditate over and over again, why did the instantaneous stay of that year turn out to be a mirage that ended without beginning?
……
Today, n years later, it's still the same person, standing silently by the gurgling water, looking at the autumn water soup, blossoming. White petals fill the sky, just like snowflakes condensed with thoughts. Through the rustling dusk, I want to see if there is an angel standing on the other side of the reed. That person is you n years ago.