Soul Left on Paper

Soul left on paper I was like the tears of wandering years, The residual fragrance of your rouge is still floating in the wind. If the oath is carved into the bank of Qiantang River, A river of cold moon shines across the city and the ocean. Waiting for you to grow up under the tree of time, The world laughs at me and slanders me. My hair is as gray as frost. Watch the kites chasing the setting sun in the sky, It's like the wind lantern shaking when I say goodbye at night. My heart is like quicksand scattered beside the rut, When you return one day, you will travel far and wide. If it's a cold rainy night in autumn and the tired birds are at home, That is the withered yellow left under the flower wall. You live in the east of Qiantang, and I live in the north of Lin'an. When you say goodbye, your brown clothes are soaked in red makeup. The concubine wears a yellow belt around her waist. The compass has wrong longitude and latitude, Your soul falls into the spring pavilion, My soul is in Hangzhou, You also asked me to give birth to Yuhang Lane. Waiting for you to grow up under the tree of time, The world laughs at me and slanders me. My hair is as gray as frost. Watch the kites chasing the setting sun in the sky, It's like the wind lantern shaking when I say goodbye at night. You live in the east of Qiantang, and I live in the north of Lin'an. When you say goodbye, your brown clothes are soaked in red makeup. The concubine wears a yellow belt around her waist. The compass has wrong longitude and latitude, Your soul falls into the spring pavilion, My soul is in Hangzhou, You also asked me to give birth to Yuhang Lane.