Meeting again eight years later, is it a surprise from God or a man-made gift?
He is no longer young and frivolous, but still full of confidence.
She is no longer yellow-tongued, but still unfazed by favors and humiliations.
He began to approach gently, she dodged with ease,
As before,
But how many more eight years are there in life?
Will it be you sooner or later, or will it be you sooner or later?
My hair turns white when I think about it.
Are you tired?
Turn around or hug,
Ask your own heart.