That late summer
We met for the first time under the parasol tree
She was dressed in red and looked up with a smile.
Let him hear the throbbing in his chest like the chirping of cicadas in the hot late summer wind
At that time, he was a young man with a tortuous and straightforward spirit. Even though tens of thousands of people were there, I would still go there.
It actually made all the heroes in the world dazed.
The appearance of interlaced light and dark among the mottled tree shadows
One glance is a lifetime
through the years, through the years
Good times and beautiful scenery
She stroked the tombstone and said softly: "My name is Rouge."
In a trance, I saw him writing her legend with his pen
Just because you look back makes me think about your dynasty and dusk