Lyrics: Tang Qi GongziMusic: Hetu
Light a lamp and listen to the sound of a lonely flute all night
Waiting for a person to wait for love
Wind blowing through the heavy door, leaving the courtyard cold
A piece of paper with a red paper is about to be a fate for the rest of your life
The history book has turned over the page of the memories are sealed
Yuanyang brocade painted the section of a lonely life
Who is still waiting for the vow of a long life
Who is too serious
Dreaming of her painting under the city
Drawing a picture of a house in the mountains and the water
Snow is falling down and burying a thousand pagodas
Being separated from life and death is a lonely place in the world
Dreaming of her playing the strings of the wind and the grace of the wind
Playing a piece of the white head of the good fortune
Snow is falling down and burying a thousand pagodas
Snow is falling down and burying a thousand pagodas
What is it that you want to know about your life?
Snow has fallen and buried a thousand towers
Life and death are separated by the loneliness of the end of the world
Dreaming of a time when she strummed the strings of the wind
Playing a piece of the white head of Shaohua
Snow has fallen and buried a thousand towers
Like the moonlight in the mirror, he doesn't know whether it's real or not
Changan's oath, the history of history hasn't been written down
2, I don't see Chang'an
Words: Finale
Song by Hetu
Sung by Hetu
Dew is still wet on the grass under the old tree at the head of the village
The ferry sings a song in the morning mist, carrying it across the river
I lay on the roof with my arms resting on the roof and thought about it all night
Who in the hall under the tiles talks about Chang'an on paper
The bridge looks like frost, and the soles of my shoes are cold, stepping over the green flagstone boards
The girl's eyes are on the ground, and the girl who passes by her face, her eyes are on the ground.
The girl who brushed against me had a curved brow and a smile
I took the ferry with my backpack on and looked back over the gangplank
The smoke from the cooking fires in the silhouette of the villages rose up and dispersed
Suddenly, I started to miss the Chang'an of the story like crazy
I have been travelling day and night on a long journey through the mountains and the mountains
This way, I have travelled thousands and thousands of miles, and I have seen how many times a flower blooms
Spring, summer and winter, the winds have been flowing in the spring, summer and winter
When the winds blow, the winds will blow in the autumn, summer and winter.
I passed through a small town where the night was as cool as water and the moon was curving in the sky
I passed through the south of the Yangtze River and saw a scholar sleeping on the banks of the willows
I passed through the long streets where the streets were bustling with activity and the hawkers were selling their wares
I passed through Luoyang and saw a lady painting peonies in a mansion
I gradually began to dream about Chang'an in my storytelling every night
Chang'an City
Chengdu, the city of Chang'an, has been a place where people sing poems, and where they sing all the songs of the past. Some people sing poems and songs of sorrow and happiness
The sun was shining when I arrived, and the wind was blowing softly
But why did I suddenly lose my head? In Chang'an
This place with its many pavilions and halls was not what I had imagined
There used to be a picture in my heart of what he looked like
The city of Chang'an suddenly started raining, wetting down its splendor and its vicissitudes
I forgot the direction I came from, amidst the panic of the crowd. I forgot where I came from
That year, I turned around and left, and the sound of the water was far away from the riverbank
If the village is still the same, I will look back from ten million miles away
3. Summer Solstice of the Thirty-eighth Year
Lyrics: Fox Leaves
Music: Hetu
The decaying grasses are even in the evening sunshine and the color of the willows in the half-city is half a flute
Wastedly, I made the green wax into a jade and the clothes in the full seat are not remembered
Time, time, time, time, time...
When the time comes, I can't remember the time.
Time comes and goes
The leaning screen lengthens the light and shadow
The colorful vermillion lacquer blots out the painting
A farce of paper and gold
A coat stained with red dust
After the West Wing is sung, who hopes for this life to be together
The shadows under the lamp whitewash the memories
An old jukebox revolves around thoughts
A letter of yellowed and folded letters
A letter of yellowed and folded letters
A letter of yellowed and folded letters
There is no such thing as forever
The more beautiful everything is, the more it changes
The shutter tries to freeze time without realizing the superficiality of the gesture
Who can put happiness in a photo
A moment of mountains, a moment of abyss, strangers on the same road, side by side, and fall
From the beginning to the end
What is it about manipulating everything that's in the palm of your hand that makes the threads gather together
Making all the expressions reflect the end?
Someone has circled the world a few times
The side of the face in the porthole of the most perfect airplane
Remembering a lifetime's worth of images in the clouds
To cry in the end at the moment of crashing
Someone has stood on the heights of the pyramid
The cheapest count of envy and jealousy
Walking through this
It's not possible to escape the lonely sleep under the tombstone
How many people are performing in the square
Trying to prove forever
Some people have chased after years and years remembering the time limit of the agreement
Turning around but forgetting how to miss it
Moment by moment the sea water and the flames of a stranger on the same road fell in the same direction
From the beginning to before the end.
What manipulation of all sorts is gathered into a line in the palm of your hand
Let all your expressions reflect the end
A sentence is said from raw to skillful
The typhoon storm visited the wind ball for the first few times
There is always someone who would like to swallow a lie
Not to see the chains that have to be carried after the sweetness is over
A song is sung from the deepest love to the most perfunctory
Bad.
Broken cassette tape, it can't rewind
There's always someone who's been together for twenty years
But lost to a face that's na?ve or seductive
Viaducts are still spreading noisily
Skyscrapers divide the sky's view
Strangers in the rush of the crowd are still looking at each other with a different wish
We brush shoulders with each other when we don't know anything about each other
When we don't know anything, we'll never know.
5. White Clothes
Word: Darsity
Music: Hetu
Arrangement: Hetu
Sung by Hetu
Who has ever searched for me in the rain at the city gates
Carved in ancient landscapes and shining the moon in the night
How many songs I left behind
The ink I wielded at the bidding of the court, and how many I left behind
It was a long time since I was born.
Who understands my frustration and who knows my pride
Who has waited for me in the streets of fireworks
The wall of flowers that bloomed and then failed, only mottled
Who have I ever laughed with under the flowers
The woman of celadon, like water, smiled in serenity
When the years were still waning, I realized that I was no longer a young man
It was only when the years were still waning that I realized that I was no longer a young man.
The wind blew away the withered leaves and shook off the empty cicadas
Dropped in the courtyard full of peonies
Singing on the stage with a beaded curtain
How can I possibly let my pen be amazed
This white dress is ordinary and also customary
New lyrics are sung eight or nine times a night;
Changed with broken strings of the pipa and then came back again
We are singing to the wine at the pavilion at night
We are singing to the wine at the pavilion at night.
It's the same as the other way around.
This white coat is the tie that binds and wears me out
The cup is empty, the glass is full, who will spill the wine
Throwing the messy rolls in exchange for my drunkenness
Even if you can't see what's in front of you
Whoever the wind and the rain are not changing the red building tour, can't be loaded with sorrows
The seat is full of poems and songs in exchange for hot wine, how can we go on the chessboard in this game
Dusty and dewy, the flowers are lingering in the back of the curtains
Buttonwood is a vast place, and it's not easy to find.
The bridge is opened by an umbrella in the light rain
A dream of yellow sorghum and a pot of wine
A white dress for a lifetime
This white dress is ordinary, but also habitual
New lyrics are sung eight or nine times in one night
A new lute with broken strings is sung, and then it is repeated
The evening of the pavilion with wine is a time to sing
Taste the taste of it is unchanged
The story is not half written yet
Who helped me write the past?
This white coat is forever and a moment
The oil of this night's lamp has been burned dry;
I haven't finished half of the story yet;
Who helped me to make up the past?
6. The Ballad of Lingding
Lyrics: Fox Leaves
Music: Hetu
Disappearing flowers scattered to the ends of the earth
Let's not forget to go home
The shepherd's flute is melodious in the Ba River at the Qingming Festival
The people are brokenhearted, and the tears are falling like rain
The shallow pond is full of koi carp
Winds are blowing in a tangled way and the wind is blowing, and we are listening to a night's music.
Life and death are not clear, the snowy clothes are like flowers
The white hair is combing the hang-ups
Who is crying and hurting the walls of the city
Who is laughing and touching the bleakness of the sky
Who is laughing at the glitz and glamour
Who is quiet and doesn't need to speak anymore
The clouds are flowing away from me and the sand is flowing away from my fingers
Wind blows the old black and white paintings.
The willow you planted has new branches
The warbler flies and the grass grows in spring and summer
The fireflies are scattered and the sad song is peaceful
The souls that have traveled far are no longer looking back
The apricot blossom village is cooking and the smoke is coming up
Which journey of the zither disperses the sky
Who cries and cries darkens the sky and the wolves
Who smiles and laughs through the bones of the danza
Which journey of the piano disperses the sky
Whose tears and laughter darken the sky and the wolf
Who's green shirt was buried by the twilight
Who's dream still has butterfly wings spreading gently
Who cut the warm yellow candlelight for one night
The stone steps in front of the door had a few more rows of tears
Who pushed open the carved window
Though I am afraid that you will miss the incense that guides the way
The acacia fire is in a mess and the chilled smoke is slightly cool
You're on the other side, so do not lose it and do not forget it
There's a rhyme by the bridge.
Will the nursery rhymes by the bridge be sung
Singing of the past you left behind
Rain falls on the other bank, the river passes through the river of forgetfulness
Silent boatman, who are you ferrying across the river
Who's home is on the stranger's side of the curving water
Lighting of the lamp, the girl, has he come back
7.
Sung by: Hetu HITA
Merchants talking by the docks
The price of a bag of rubies sold today
I walked down the cobblestone steps
Thinking that fairytales could embellish a quiet life
What is the little cobbler looking for outside the tavern
Who is the one who should be stealing the rum
I started singing at the theatre after I got used to clearing my throat. I began to sing in the theater
But even the singing was a sideshow
I left that life in peace
I picked up my quill and tried to write again
The elf passed by the corner of my room
Saying that Ruscellida had sailed away in the night
I checked my ticket to the storms and the islands
The mermaids of the sea accompanied me
The lighter box said.
The flint box was lit in the dark by the old captain
Lighting up the swirls of the soul
I think I need to find the swan in this fairy tale
Those who can't read are wasting away in their busy lives
Listening to the strings of the marionettes that are talking between the lines
How can they know the heart of those people who can't understand
She is lonely and waiting for a castle
. She waited for a castle in loneliness
The legend of the rider who did not want to know
So I wrote in my travels
A record of the marks left behind in the 19th century
I'd buy the matches in her hand
And in my old age I would strike them quietly
The Tin Soldier of the Glow promised to accompany me on my journey
To find a smile on the street of the child who was lost.
And the winter of Denmark is almost over. After the applause, I think we've all gotten something out of it.