Can I wait for you? In the midst of this valley. Will you come? Will you hold me and coax me? The leaves are fluttering, and in this golden season of late autumn, this is our perfect wedding? Or am I alone at the funeral? Won't you care about me? Am I really not beautiful?

By this little river, where the water flows mercilessly in the northwest direction, shall I be buried here, and fall on this wet sandy ground to be with the crabs in the river? I'm lonely, sitting alone in the wet grass, hunched on my legs, in a daze, shedding tears, don't you really want to marry me?

I imagined that you would be standing quietly behind me with a smile on your face, here, smiling at me. But when I looked back gently, there was no, but there was no figure of you, still a dark meadow, and, a silent wood.

At night, I dreamed of you, it was this grassy land, and you appeared behind me. I, standing up lightly, fell tightly into your arms, tears dripping from the corners of my eyes, pressed my face to your chest, your heart, and cried to you: "Gongjin, hold me tight, I will never leave you again, um, hum." ”

If the hearts depend on each other, the fate meets. Today, I sit alone in my home in the city, reading behind closed doors, and you work on this street not far away, and at night, you sleep on my upper floor, and at this time, we are so close.

But I, but I still imagine that once upon a time, in the mountains, I sat alone in that wet grass, and I missed you endlessly.

The country man really didn't talk much about me, how romantic I was.

I want to be with you, with you, hugging together in the moonlight, my tears flowing for you, wetting my chest.

I would like to be your wife, even if it is a concubine, in this life, in this life, in this life, there is a fate to sleep together. In the valley, I am a woman, and all I have in my heart is the boundless longing for you, and I am so beautiful at this moment, but you don't know it.

The old people in the village said that I was a bitch, but in fact, I didn't do anything, I just talked to them a few more words, but this is different, they insist that I am too ostentatious, that I am not well-dressed, am I really so purple and moving? Now, does anyone still care about me?

Melancholy, melancholy like a junchondron, immersed in the depths of the valley, a little less glamorous in the market.

Hurt, Du Ruohua, who will pay attention to me, I am just a myth in the dreams of the city people, a myth.

If you die today, who knows the truth of your life? Am I a good person? Or is it a bad guy?

In my life, I just live here, I will eventually leave this place, renew, start anew, return to you, you live upstairs in my house, I would like to die in your arms, I love you, because you are my father-in-law.

This valley, although it is beautiful, but I don't want to die alone here, in this lonely place that can no longer be lonely.

……