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On the bank of Xunyang, beside the orchid pavilion, there is a beautiful woman, clear and graceful, playing a pipa and singing a song of revival. The night is dark, the flowers are falling deeply, and the moon is misty over the river. Two hearts are sincere. Holding the child's hand, the bond between life and death is broad, but look at the sultry spring scenery, the flowers are silent in the night.

You are floating in the lonely cloud and staring, I am approaching with destiny, the long world of mortals, the vastness of life and death, who is whose white moonlight? Love and hatred in two lives, grudges in this life, with tears in my eyes, watch the strong wind rise, watch the clouds roll away, watch the tide rise and the sea rise, watch the moon set.