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I bid farewell to my beautiful lady and go away. Autumn rain plays in early winter. The dew is deep and cold. The sand is rolling thousands of miles away and dark clouds are curling up. I drink the quiet tea without being frightened. My heart has nowhere to go. The noise is a lonely cry. The carnival is just a disguise of loneliness. When the setting sun is red and shy, the lights are first lit. We meet again, listening to the wind alone in the night, but the ups and downs are confused, and the spring dreams are startled; the distant mountains are new and green, and the willows fly to welcome the return of the swallows. A man's life is just to play a graceful song, and for half his life, he is a soldier. Because of the mist and rain, the world can be covered, but it is a sandy land in troubled times, and a love scene in a prosperous age.