Your name is still on my lips.
Love, I am thousands of miles away from you.
I know that too.
Sixteen-year-old flowers only bloom once.
But I still care about the whiteness of the skirt.
Care about everything that is praised.
The feeling of being pampered and comforted
Care about golden dream network
Protect me from foreign wind and frost
Love is a kind of wine.
Drinking it becomes missing.
In a strange city
I raise my glass every night.
Towards the age of sixteen.