Returning After Stepping on Flowers to Pick up the Golden Year

I came to this world to see the sunshine. I light up a petal of incense, and my tears will flow for you. There were tears and I felt still full and satisfied. It's a pity that the years are fleeting, I am worried about the wind and rain, the flowers are flying and withering, the sky is full of flowers, the red flowers are fading and the fragrance is gone, who can pity me? You should be merciful, but I am still merciful when I see you. With three thousand fine pens and ink dancing in the world of mortals, I can be sad for an inch of sadness, or be happy for a centimeter of happiness. The pearls fall on the jade plate, as graceful as a startled dragon. Every word is astonishing, and every sentence of fairy tales softens the years. The cherries have turned red, the bananas have turned green, the years have passed, and the light has dimmed. Time is here to stay, and I don't complain about separation. When I come back from stepping on the flowers, I will regain my golden years, and there will be a secret fragrance filling my sleeves, which will intoxicate me for thousands of years. Since ancient times, a young man in white clothes, with fifty strings of brocade strings, a sword raining with stars, and a romantic attitude, will live up to his time. Exactly: stepping on the flowers and returning home, the horse is like flying, leaving the horse like flying. The wine is weak. When the wine is weak, it is already dusk. When you wake up, it is already dusk. Stepping on the flowers is returning.