In the city of Chang'an, there was a great noise of carriages and horses. I, the BMW with light fur, and my entourage like clouds, met you, who also had the same light fur and BMW, and my entourage, like clouds. Your proud eyes, my aggressive edge, were so unyielding in such an unruly era of ruling the country and writing poems and songs. The two bustling forces, in the place where the thoroughfares are crowded with restaurants, intimidated the prosperity. Is it because I have always been used to being carefree, or were you born into a noble family and were pampered? We sat proudly, leisurely and gracefully in the carriage, talking through the bamboo curtain with gorgeous clothes and proud eyes...
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