The peach blossoms withered and bloomed again,
One year after another.
The beauty in my dream. . .
Do you know that I am infatuated?
Traveling through thousands of mountains and rivers,
Just to pursue you,
Pursuing the you whose existence is not yet certain.
Doubts keep me from being firm,
Longing makes me burn into madness,
Where is your figure?
Do you feel my sadness?
My heart has been wavering,
The obsession is about to fall apart,
Why haven't you appeared yet? Why? Why. . .