I still remember that at that time, the Shuofang battlefield was filled with clanking iron bones and rustling golden spears. I am a piece of dust, chasing iron hooves, laughing and drinking blood, standing proudly among the heroes in the yellow sand, falling to the ground with a hundred thousand dead bones, and becoming a general again.
I still remember the boat boats in the south of the Yangtze River at that time, leaning against the willows and the misty waterside. I am a piece of dust, with embroidered shoes attached, looking at your makeup, spreading paper and splashing ink in the drizzle, sinking into the water to avoid the bad scene of traitors and sycophants, the world is hot and cold.
I still remember that time in a foreign land, with light gauze and neon clothes, and dancing girls revolving around. I am dust, my eyelashes are dyed with tears, I am homesick, I am in the hazy gold and paper drunk, hanging in the air a hundred times with the music, how can I know that my heart is sad.
I still remember that in the Forbidden Palace at that time, the emperor was lonely, with dragons and phoenixes surrounding the beams. I am a piece of dust, listening to the wind and rain, sighing at the impermanence, a sad song among the intrigues, who can accompany me in the lonely sycamore courtyard.