Childhood sweetheart, childhood sweetheart, if there were not so many accidents in life, I thought I could spend this long life with you hand in hand.
The years are fleeting, and the clouds are passing by. If I hadn't been nostalgic for the tenderness and affection, I might have chuckled after turning around, completely forgetting the bone-gnawing lovesickness.
Don't care about time, wandering around.
Don't care about the other side, just look forward to it.
As if guarding an eternal alliance.
Who said that holding the king's hand can be exchanged for a white hand?
It's easy to throw people away in the passing years. The cherries turn red and the bananas turn green.
The beauty has spent half her life dreaming of flashiness, which has messed up the country and forgotten her appearance.
If it was before the flowers and the moon that year that I could not stop my heart beating for you, then I would like to forget you in the east wind of that year after you turn around.
If it is the too much helplessness in the world that makes us make mistakes, I would rather make mistakes again and again and become a stranger to you, ungrateful.
But after you left, every drop of clear tears, sadness in my heart, every promise, disappeared with the wind.
But I don't know how much pain I can't see hidden in your eyes, and how much sadness I don't know about in your decisive turn.
The ink leaves sing softly, the sentences are heartbreaking, the melody is melodious, and the sound is hurtful.
Only if you don't miss lovesickness in your life will you miss lovesickness, which will harm lovesickness.
The body is like floating clouds, the heart is like flying catkins, and the energy is like gossamer.
A wisp of lingering fragrance is here, what's the point of looking forward to a wealthy wanderer?
When will the syndrome come? When the lamp is half dim, when the moon is half bright.