The dawn of a thousand years later is a grand loneliness,

The sky is full of the mournful cry of the red kite,

I woke up in fate,

Looking at the white palace on the left bank. Pen & Fun & Pavilion www.biquge.info

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A quarter past three in the morning,

It was a gentle night.

The lights of the left bank are flowing in the years,

My beloved sat against the light on the wings of the temple.

He is a king,

Stay in the palace.

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A man's heart is a frozen sea,

The robe shone like gold.

He speaks scarcely,

Like a windless wasteland with no end in sight.

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Guanghan loneliness,

Some people sat in silence, accustomed to the silence of those years.

The king's side face is the hard arc of the setting sun,

Light is a delicate knife,

The lines between the eyebrows are carved.

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I forgot what day of the month of the year,

Because the waters of the river Tafar rose up on both sides,

My king is clothed with armor,

He grabbed the knife with his left hand,

Beat his horse away in that dawn where he could no longer remember the colors.

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But some people,

As soon as you turn around, it's a lifetime.

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After a long time,

I think of the backlight of the day,

I was surprised by the desolation and loneliness,

And then I remembered the silence,

and his side face that remains unchanged all year round......

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In the third year after the man left,

The first rain fell on the left bank.

On that wet summer solstice,

I wrote the sentences of my thoughts in my diary,

I say:

I can't get enough of you.

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I still remember the lively and humid midsummer night of that life,

I stood at the monsoon ferry and looked back at the way I came,

Looking forward to,

In the evening when the rainy season is approaching,

There was a man who came home late,

Gently push open the thin door.

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But this summer,

Didn't surprise me.

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At last I understand that my king will never return,

My dull extravagance,

Until now,

Only then did I realize it later.

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There is only so much youth in a person,

I know I can't wait too long.

But my king, I want to know,

Do you remember

That one is on the white-gold sandy beach of Lubis on the Left Bank

Young woman barefoot sitting on a wing of the temple.

You only looked at her,

and took her heart.

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When time comes to an end,

When memories become old photos,

At the end of the old age,

After all, it's time to say goodbye:

O my king,

Behold my eyes,

Deep. Kiss me on the lips.

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If there is an afterlife.