Mayfly Thousand Generations

I would like to turn into that stone bridge, Bear the wind blowing for three hundred years, The wind is like a sharp blade, cutting through the body but constantly cutting through obsessions; Three hundred years of sunshine, The scorching sun scorches the soul but cannot burn out the deep feelings; Three hundred years of rain, The cold rain beats, soaking into the bone marrow but never extinguishes the expectation. Just to see you again. Naihe Qiaotou, a bowl of Meng Po soup, How can I forget my feelings for you? Naihe Qiaotou, a bowl of Meng Po soup, How can I forget my expectations for you? Naihe Qiaotou, a bowl of Meng Po soup, How can I forget my true love for you? Naihe Qiaotou, a bowl of Meng Po soup, How can you give up your own heroic spirit? Naihe Qiaotou, a bowl of Meng Po soup, How can you give up your waiting?