I met the best boy in the world.
He pulled me out of the mire and was willing to give me a home.
He said that when the peach blossoms bloomed, he would give me the prettiest one on the tree.
But he died before spring arrived.
His head was used as a wine vessel, and his body was hung from the city wall to bake in the sun.
My spring will never come.
My boy will never come back.
So why should the people of this world get to have spring?
Let them all be buried with my boy.
Theme: Even ants you look down on can bring down a dynasty.
