The moon is like silk,
entangled in the pale night;
through the window,
Weave perfect dreams.
Raising hope,
The sword still sings;
Tianya Road,
How many dreams are made of flying horses;
The autumn wind is strong,
You clenched the lingering fragrance in your palms.
Walk a lifetime,
To love for life.
The heart is not warm,
The night is sad...
The heart is not warm
The night is already sad······
Intention: