Hairpin head phoenix
The frost in the forest is red, intoxicating the eyes, and I suddenly dream after dusk when the night comes. Holding the emperor's hand, climbing a high building, a tree with red leaves, all the spring and autumn. Worry, worry, worry!
The autumn wind is wild, the night is still young, and thousands of falling reds are as sad as the sea. The wind blows, complaining about separation, forcing a smile, leaning against the lantern alone. Difficult, difficult, difficult!