"I seem to have promised you that I would walk on that beautiful mountain road with you;
You said that the slope is full of new tea trees and dense acacia trees;
I seem to have promised you, on a distant spring afternoon;
And tonight, under the lamp, combing my first white hair,
Suddenly I remembered some unfulfilled promises,
some unexplainable sadness;
On that mountain road, young you,
Are you still waiting for me?
Still looking eagerly where he came from. "
--Xi Murong