I fought through rivers and lakes of blood, seeking only a cup of wine to warm me.
I conquered kingdoms, leaving behind only a pavilion to shelter from the rain.
My sword points to the highest heavens. Can fate truly not be defied? I ask only whether the sword in my hand agrees!
At the summit beneath the eternal sky, I look back on this life: nothing more than a wisp of smoke and dust.
A lifetime of fame and glory, with three companions: the wine in my cup, the sword in my hand, and the one in my dreams.
A bamboo cottage in a grove, mist without form, red flowers without a name. In the blink of an eye, ten thousand years have passed again.
