The sound has faded, the lonely city shuts its gates, and the red flowers at the treetops have all fallen. A broken branch cannot convey the willow's meaning.
The winds and smoke have stilled, a flute begins to play, and evening rain falls once more upon the temple. This fleeting life is nearly over, its sorrows beyond bearing.
The breeze comes, the fragrance fades, the flowers fall away; only she remains, weary of combing her hair.
Morning and evening must come to an end. A sheet of paper seals fate, and a light boat drifts away.
"I lost my whole life just to win you, but this regret remains, even after the music ends and everyone has gone."
The greatest joke fate played on him was letting him experience the greatest misfortune of his life at the moment of his greatest triumph, like pear blossoms falling when spring is at its most beautiful.
