If the rain butterflies are fluttering and pitiful,
The rainy night is lingering,
It's not romance,
How can we drink frost and snow together?
So I don't know whether it is bitter or sweet,
Why do you need to keep thinking about it so much?
The tenderness of self-preservation wraps around the rest of the fingers,
There are layers upon layers of sleep,
Yingying stars, dots of silver,
A flower filled with broken hearts and thousands of pieces,
Just like a red lotus.