If life is just like the first time we met, why should the autumn wind draw a fan sadly?
Three hundred years of ups and downs, I just want to embrace you.
The cold plum moon rises on the branches, and I sigh, "Where can we join hands?"
Falling in love with you is my destiny, falling in love with me is your destiny.
Who knows how sad and desolate it is?
That is to say, to wear something clean and to be vulgar to the end.
Some people and some things should be cherished