No more waiting
The wind blows away the clouds, and the moon rises above the west tower. A long curve of water-like feelings is accompanied by the evening breeze and reflects the bright moon. The strings between the fingers whisper the dark thoughts, the helplessness of the fallen flowers is floating with countless traces of melancholy, the night is hazy, and the eyes are haggard and tired. The long, unspeakable loneliness is like the moss spreading over the years of life. For whom is the beauty charming?
The past is like a dream, with faint traces of tears. Looking back, how many times have it been windy and rainy and how many times have it been sunny? The small characters on the red paper can't express the lingering meaning, and the gentle tune of the plain piano can't express the emotion in the wind. A song of Xiaoxiang, how many souls are lingering in dreams, how much joy, anger, sorrow and joy, how much love, hatred and resentment are there? If love has frozen, if tears have dried, why is there still that constant needle-like sting cutting through the vines of memory over the years? "The carved railings and jade bricks should still be there, but the beauty has changed." Things have changed and people have changed. Even if there are thousands of styles, who can tell it?
The delicate and tender feelings are as light as the wind, and the cold music sounds like a dream in the air. Draped in the moonlight, dancing under the spring flowers and snowy moon, seeing the broken beauty and pain deep in the world of mortals, I realized that everything in the world is just a play, there is no absolute truth and falsehood, and different people in the world use different faces to perform leading their own lives. What kind of stage you walk on is sometimes up to you. Dreams are bumpy in the world of mortals, love and affection are wandering in the world, loneliness is always singing with sadness in no one's place. The world is so big, how can I not find my home? Did I throw something away, or was I abandoned? Waiting is a very difficult journey. All my dreams are filled with shadows of the past. I want to get rid of them but I can't. The tide comes and goes, and the flowing water sweeps away time. In the endless waiting, there are only three parts of helplessness, four parts of desolation and a hundred parts of sadness. Good dreams are hard to continue, good times do not last long, and passion can only be exchanged for being left out in the cold autumn when you are sober. All the good intentions come to nothing, the dawn wind wanes on the willow bank and the waning moon shines in the cold light of the solitary sail and shadow.
The most beautiful thing is a drunkenness, and the most regrettable fragrance is to miss it. Infatuation for whom? Resentment for whom? Flying into the sky, even if I look for you in this life and the next, it will be nothing more than a cloud of smoke dissipating. Raising a glass to the moon, who can get drunk with me? How can I be so embarrassed when I sing and cry for a long time? Looking at the wind and clouds with a smile, one cannot understand the feelings of the world. The agonizing waiting is nothing more than cutting through the breeze with the black hair between your fingers, walking while singing, leaving sadness in the air.
No more waiting, let the confusion pass through the cliff of the sky, let the chaos cross the lake of the heart, let the dust and frost along the way go away with the wind, let all the dust dreams become memories, chase the stars with a heart Tomorrow’s warm sunrise.