I captured the desolation of the moonlight
Heal the wounds wrinkled by the breeze
Weeping willows and new poplars on the secluded tomb beside the West Lake
Tipsy tipsy tipsy grinding incense
Writing about the broken past
The panic that fades away the ink marks
I am left alone to lean against the west window of the mansion and stare at it every night
Staring at the mottled city wall
The broken body hugged tightly is covered with bruises
Under the moon marks, the face is like a touch of clear frost
The mighty sorrow of separation and the edge of the cold sword
I still remember my ruthless vanity
I still remember your appearance in this life
Two lines of speech on the sandalwood fan
Playing under the Green Pavilion
Whose youthful frivolity is concealed by the solitary grave?
Leave a leisurely fragrance in the air
Lies are engraved on the curtain of my heart
Waiting to turn yellow in memories
Condemning the lonely boat in the middle of the river, listening to the rain and enjoying Xiaoxiang
All are illusions of good times
The remaining bodies hugging each other gradually become colder
A lifetime of confusion is engraved on the stone tablet
Fireworks bloom enchantingly on the occasion of the natural chasm
Vanished between your eyebrows
Loneliness is as long as black hair
I still remember that year when the silhouettes were in pairs
I still remember what you were like in this life