There are three sighs in floating life, but no sorrow or joy.
The first sigh is that the flowers are sparse and the wine is weak, the second sigh is that no one knows that the string is broken, the third sigh is that the night is over and spring is about to end.
Three songs for floating life, but no songs for separation and mourning.
The first song is "The Autumn Frost in the Bright Mirror", the second song is "The Dusty Small Xuan Window", the third song is "People are old and autumn is about to be cold".
The ruins are everywhere, and bones have been withered for thousands of years.
A smile comes from life, the cause and the fate are all determined
If life is like this, it's better not to encounter it
Life is like this, wandering several times
Things have changed and people have changed. I can't bear to look back. What can I do? What can I do?
Resentment arises, forgetting each other in the rivers and lakes, and singing songs forever. . . . .