The east wind is evil, happiness is thin, a cup of melancholy leaves me alone for a few years.
In the shadow of the noble family, I poured out my love for you, abandoned my dignity and nobility, and was willing to fall into the deepest world of mortals to embrace you. I had no intention of blocking your way, it was you who had always held me back in the most secret place in my heart. With my late beauty, I painted the still delicate and delicate me with powder, and the catkins were stained with blood. I used pots of lovesickness to wash out the pure and flawless look you most wanted to see. Maybe it's just the soft wave of chaos in your eyes, maybe it's just the skirt of your clothes floating upright, maybe it's just the bleak and silent song of separation, or maybe it's just your faint overflowing clearness and elegance. I was drunk alone when everyone was awake, and I drunk myself into the deep wall of the palace without hesitation. Every night was sad, and I drank my sorrowful thoughts beside your embroidered pillow and on the blue silk.
I only remember that I met my beloved you in the most beautiful years. Your scattered figure on the ground was burned into the depths of my eyes. It was hot, sour, and speechless, and it ignited my lonely heart. I never expected your whole heart, just communication. With my hot heart, I beg for your gaze to linger for a moment. Even if I am burned by fire, I would like to let the ashes fall with the wind in your memory. My heart can only settle here, my love can only take root here, and my beauty can only bloom here.
The moth flies to the flame just to meet her deep love under the shadow of fire.