How can a painting stained with blood compare to a little cinnabar between your eyebrows? Even if it conquers the world, it will never be anything more than prosperity.
The innocent love of a young childhood sweetheart cannot withstand the tricks of fate. Watching love turn into hatred, you are my most lingering wound.
When the prosperity is gone and you dominate the world, who will stand side by side with you to see the vastness of the world?