Those were just the fleeting years of Jinse. In such a time of rain and clouds, everything was like ink marks rendered on thin rice paper. Looking towards the sun, it was blurry, as if it was a lifetime ago.
The cicadas are mournful, facing the pavilion at night, the music of the piano is everywhere, but it's just parting. Leaning on the railing and looking at it, you are lying drunk in the world of mortals, nothing more than a mirror. I miss my old friend, but I have missed a few times in my life. Who knows if I feel sorry for myself?
The old days of drunkenness, listening to flutes and drums, and chanting and appreciating the haze are ultimately nothing more than a song of farewell, longing for each other, and paying all the tributes.
Queen Liu Heipang