The Chutian is thousands of miles wide, just like the mind of my Chinese man. They hold the sword carrying dignity tightly and create miracles.
The waning moon is thousands of feet away, like the soft intestine that looks like a beautiful flower. They strive for the brilliance of youth in an instant, but they hope to have no regrets.
However, one day when we look back on the past and the dust is everywhere, we suddenly find that time flies by like a stream of light and the years are broken like flying sand. Who can tell me how lonely it feels to be in the cold at a high place.
Under the waning moon in the Chu sky, what is being sung is a hymn and a sacrificial song.