Cook it, Dongting wave
The fragrance of tea in the pot calls out Naihe
Fried green sprouts and roasted over low heat
Borrow the breeze for three minutes□
The rain is falling, the flowers are falling
A heart that never breaks down
The cup is empty, the cup is full of disaster
The fragrance of tea only passes between your lips
Can't stay
Agitated by ups and downs, you can see the sword spirit in the distance
The cup is covered with dust, don't ask each other in the palm of your hand
The blood is white, the flowers bloom red at the vernal equinox
Walking on the wind, there is still warmth in your fingertips
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