The square is bustling with activity, like a grand gathering
The square is surrounded by towering buildings, just like a basin
High-rise buildings are the wings of his takeoff
Under a lamp, an old man is playing a bamboo flute
And another group of people is singing along with him, each song
has something to do with nostalgia. Every song
has something to do with nostalgia, nothing to do with news broadcasts
nothing to do with interviews, and the tunes, at times low and lyrical
at times youthful, at times celebratory of the times
A few children, with their innocence and joy
tied to the skates of their roller skates, at times spreading their wings
and at times flying, they don't care about the fall of the stocks
much less the rise and fall of the house prices
They don't care about the fall of the stock markets
nor do they care about the rise and fall of the house prices.
They are the angels of joy, the gods their parents worship
The starry clouds gather, hidden by the night, and the soothing dance music
Leads the half-aged woman, the flow of rhyme.
The youthful figures
A breeze blows by
Their skirts fly, telling of their former years
A group of pigeons, imprisoned in cages, fluttering their wings
Tells the leisure people about the ideal of flying
The gaze, with expectation and longing, seems to be saying
Give me freedom, I want to fly
I want to be free. I want to fly
The people who have nothing to do are beating the whips in their hands
on the rotating konghou and venting some of their emotions
on the helplessness of the konghou, and a few old men
are spreading the remnants of their leisure on the bamboo benches, and the dim light
is no longer able to light up the thoughts of the people who are isolated from the rest of the world
They are no longer believing in their own ideals.
They have banished the rest of their lives to the passing of time
Banished to the winners and losers of poker and chess
The lights are dimmed, the fountain is rendered, and the soft music
is in the colorful, rising and falling, attracting a burst of cheer
On the runway, a group of men and women, out of breath, in perfect step
Wants to put an end to their illnesses on the runway of life
The runway of life
is the only way to get to the end of life
The runway of life
is the only place where you can get to the end of life.
At this time, I was pulled by a scene
Heavy footsteps, tighten the clockwork of life
Lazy legs, injected into the dreams of youth
No longer lamenting the fragility of life, no longer
Sigh with the wine to the song, sighs of frustration of the flowing flowers
With the passion of life, rinse the years of life left behind I'm not going to be able to do that.