Yin, yin, yin, you have betrayed your heart, you really have betrayed your heart, you have failed me till now.
I remember singing in a low voice and pouring a cup of wine. A song is worth a thousand pieces of gold.
Now I leave my ancient wall in the shade, the autumn wind is wild and the grass is white, the clouds are deep, the broken bridges and flowing water have no old friends.
Desolate and desolate
Desolate and desolate