Looking at your smiling face in front of me, my tears still filled the whole winter. After turning around, I could no longer find the lost promise.
Looking at the cherry blossoms all over the sky, sadness is flowing, but it cannot hide the mottled passage of time.
Who is looking for the face that is remembered in the past life in the vast world broken by wind and rain?
Who accompanies me to return to the field and take off my armor, who accompanies me to stay together till the end of the world, and who will bear the burden of my life?
What withers is the beauty of flowers, what falls are broken tears, and what is hard to redeem are the sins of the past life.
For whom do you devote your whole life, for whom do you engrave a thousand years of waiting into eternity?
The promise of three lives and seven lifetimes was just to commemorate a previous encounter.
After a thousand years of obsession, who will hold the red thread for me?
The vows I once made have long since faded away. Who is still holding a lamp in front of the door hoping for my return?
When you are drunk, you realize that the wine is strong; when you wake up, you realize that your dreams are empty. It turns out that watching the withered flowers is also a kind of pain.
A wonderful pen cannot be written on a piece of paper, and a pale oath cannot withstand the forgetfulness of time.
The years have wiped out the prosperity, and the blood has stained the armor. Who can rule the world for you?