[The Legend of Qin - Jing Ke X Gao Jianli] Millet's Lament

A pot of rough wine and a bright lamp: we drink and laugh together.

We first met in a tavern. His smile was bright, like sunlight tracing the corners of his eyes after the snow had stopped.

He wore white, striking the zhu and singing softly, his voice cool and clear, like the dark tips of his hair.

-

A pot of rough wine, the storm not yet passed. Dusk falls as I look back at the long road behind me.

Who carries a sob westward? Who is lonely as the sound of a sheng?

He said, "In life, we may live in separate houses; in death, we shall share one grave."

He said, "To the ends of the earth, I will follow you."

-

When I was young, I dreamed of taking up my sword and roaming the world alone.

Only in the end did I understand: this life was nothing but a journey toward farewell.

The zhu falls out of tune. The one who listened is gone.

Dusk falls, hoofbeats fade into the distance. The days ahead are long, but who will force a smile?

Theme: