A beautiful woman dances under the hazy moon, her silver light is like water and her hair is like the wind. I asked the moon why it was smiling, and the moonlight shadows were heavy.

I was a white lotus flower thousands of years ago, you are a light boat a thousand years later. I am in a clear water in the silence, you in the ripples of blue waves in the wall. Willow branches on the shore, green and yellow, withered and new, curling a thousand years, see my stubborn gaze, eyes deep and shallow, through the long and short sighs, penetrate the endless flow of time. I'm on this side of the world, you are on the other side of the red dust. The world's most important thing is that the world's most important thing is that the world's most important thing is the world's most important thing.

Dusk courtyard, sandalwood incense, I will be delicate shadow layers and layers, thrown and go to your direction of the water between the waves. That sick with the love, was painted into my red and thin poetry, sprinkled in the pale reed reed tops into the frost. A pool of dreams, a pool of pain, a curtain of heartbreak, a hangover, can you decipher?

I'm your next-generation red face, you've been in a dream and I met, woke up after the dream to look for, and finally did not see me shy smile. I am a delicate state of disease into blindness, powerless to cross the millennium between the cross-country heavy landscape, respond to your love. Floating in your shadow, hidden, seemingly nothing, I meditate quietly, looking across the shore, scattered a wisp of fragrance, sparse, will be torn apart by lovesickness.