Dreaming of Qingcheng

Fate is like a dream, this fleeting life like water. The moon waxes and wanes; amid wind and rain, youth blows away. The wind dies down, the rain lets up, the mist thins and the clouds grow light.

In the dead of night, I wake from a dream, tears falling like beads from a curtain. Life and death, partings and reunions, all pass in a moment of laughter and talk. Love and hate are separated by a thousand years, yet we will stay together until death, through heaven and hell.