The storm is rising one after another, is it because of that beauty who has conquered the country? Or stupid ambition?
In the palace world, when will the grievances and hatreds end?
The lake is calm, but there is an undercurrent surging
It's just that day in the wasteland, we vowed to each other
Can it withstand the end of prosperity and the ruthless flow of water?
Destiny is like a shackle
When can I see you again to clean up your face?
When will I be able to join hands with you?