The peach is red and the willows are green, how can I escape and how can I stay?
Life is short. When did you say the Yellow River will be clear?
The thousand-year river has not been cleared, but one generation has changed.
The obsession held tightly in the hand turns into fire when hot and turns into ashes when cold.
There is really nowhere to go except this palace. The phoenix that cherishes its feathers will end up with blood on its hands. Who can treat me like a treasure? Who can allow me to panic?
The Yellow River is clear, did you hear it? Is there still that day when there will be no more suspicion, no more resentment, no more use, no more concealment, only the original beauty? You accompany me to Baling and look back at Chang'an.