The wine is not strong, but a drunken and heartbreaking parting
Two or three stacks, the remaining candles and red tears still linger with sadness.
Before I knew it, the frost quietly gathered for another night
Love is hard, hate is hard
The rain tilts and attracts red butterflies
The dream is miserable, listening to Zigui crying for blood
Sighing that in this world of mortals, right and wrong can only be distinguished by love.
Who can live without regrets!