I am your dream that turns over and over again, wrapped in torn clothes and crying from the bottom of your heart; I am a frozen specimen of a butterfly, lingering and taking off among the mountains and rivers, burning a lifetime of tears.
And you are the light that falls into the eyes of the stars, fulfilling my lifelong longing for you; you are the poem written in the clouds, hiding the wind and rain in the world, the atmosphere of the pure land, and my unreasonable longings.
The mountains are clear and cold, and they return home with mist, living up to this life.