Flowers Bloom on the Road, and Slowly I Return

Prologue:

Under a starry night, at year's end, the young daisies return.

Rich silk, strings and zither, a blue flute.

We once gazed at each other. The year turns, and we meet at the Orchid Pavilion.

Laughter and conversation, looking ahead, returning to our meeting place.

Thoughts drift, fireworks blaze.

The bright moon trembles, the clouds thin, the tea turns cold.

Most of all, I yearn for the foolish days, in this vast mortal world.

Only you remain, still lingering behind the bed curtains.

Seven emotions, seven absolutes, weaving a song of youth. Silk cloth shivers beneath the cold moonlight.

A dazzling gaze, tears dry by the riverbank.

The evening shadows fall over secluded magnolias. With the enemy at the gates, our resolve is firm.

Blood stains our clothes. The waves of the past sweep through our sleeves.