Sixty years ago, by chance, we met him, and the fragrance of flowers dyed the whole night.
He was obsessed with lust and decided to leave. When we meet again, we fall in love again as a young man.
He looked down upon the demon world and treated them tenderly. When we saw each other again, we were tired and indifferent.
The Tutuo flowers bloomed, and there were no words on the street. From then on, the different roads became strangers.
Until the prosperity is exhausted, the time is pitiful. Suddenly, when I look back, there is a lot of empty space, and the water is dripping.
A lifetime of lingering love, deep love and light drinking, is nothing more than a lucky show.
In the end, who can be more ruthless than who?
There is only one pot of pure sorrow left,
The water flows slowly.