Baiyun told me,

It was the tears of the sunset,

I looked up,

A few white clouds drift gently between the treetops of the poplars,

The sky doesn't seem far away,

Right at the top of the treetops,

The cloud flower overlaps the top of the tallest tree,

I can't tell which is the tree,

Which is the white clouds.

The rays of the setting sun,

Penetrate the treetops,

Stretching into the distance,

It was a dull yellow,

The pale yellow that can arouse people's infinite sorrow,

At this point,

Only then did I feel that the short day had quietly passed.

In the face of the vast twilight,

Involuntarily lamenting,

Lamenting the shortness of the years,

Lamenting the rush of life,

Lamenting his inactivity.

The years have passed in a hurry,

Looking back on dozens of spring and autumn seasons,

Scales fall from one's eyes

It was a dream,

A dream that has not yet awakened.

Missed Spring,

I can never find the warm spring again,

Missed the summer,

There is no way to return to the pleasant summer,

In human life,

There is only one spring,

There's only one summer,

If you miss it, you can only regret it.

autumn

It's harvest season,

In the spring of life,

The seeds of the harvest were not sown,

I can only look at the fruits all over the ground,

None of them belong to themselves.

Missed the spring,

Never miss summer again,

I can only lament in this twilight,

Never wake up,

Sunny spring.

Looking at the short sunset,

blood-red color,

Like a burning life,

If you no longer cherish it,

can only be in regret,

Missed out on this summer.

I picked up a handful of loess,

Quietly scattered into the sky,

Although it is not rain,

But it fell like rain,

I woke up suddenly,

That's the seed that was sown,

Seeds in the summer,

I hurried away,

Never looked back,

There is only endless struggle.