My image is a little dirty

The rickety body can't see the vigor it once was

Although he was young at the beginning

Although I was in a mood at the beginning

Although the original ambition can break through the blue sky

Now I'm shrinking

Don't dare to relive the beginning

It was the years that smoothed my edges

Or did I give up on myself in the vicissitudes of life

Time is passing day by day

Deep furrows are drawn on the faces that mark the experience

Dust that settles in a ravine

It records my mediocre rushes

Rushing to cover the old days layer by layer

It's so covered that even I can't see through it

Is it that he is a mediocre person in the first place?

Forcing himself to emit intense light and heat

A bean star can't dispel the indifference of wind and rain

The soaring image adorns the loneliness of youth

The envious applause of others anesthetized the senses

The illusion deceives itself to ignite the beacon of challenge

Where is your own territory?

What is his opponent?

The goalless rush gradually wears out his sharpness

Rush left and right

A spear that has been eroded by the wind

Rusty and incapable of piercing the dawn

Just run around in the dark of night

Before I knew it, my beard was dyed with snow

The exhausted back is also hunched forward

I'm old, I'm still tired

Am I deserted, or wasted

Can I still really step on the warhorse?

Break through the dawn, pierce the dawn

Look back at the night around you

It is his own vanity that obscures the color of youth

It is hypocrisy that adorns their own growth

When vanity fades

When hypocrisy slowly withers

Only then can I clearly see the true power of my own growth

However, time has been in vanity

Ruthlessly lost

Can I still go back to green

Can I still blow the horn of the charge again?

When the light of dawn illuminates me

I'm still a little panicked

Is it that their wings have shrunk

Isn't their own sky already obscure

Do you still have the strength to rekindle the beacon fire that challenges you?

Is it your own image that can still be vibrant

Is it his own ambition that can still swallow mountains and rivers

Is it fighting bloody on your own real battlefield?

Is it possible to sing triumphantly after a fight?

Is it that he can still create a legend that is no longer ethereal?

I woke up from a dream

Get out of the small corners locked by dreams

Even though my image is not neat, and my bags are obscene

The ragged decoration records the dilapidation of the past

I opened my arms to the morning sun

Maybe passers-by will laugh at me for being crazy

Maybe my madness will attract disdainful spectators

I don't mind the eyes of the world

I knew I needed sunshine

I knew I needed to live

You need to forge a new self

I've wasted too much of my passion

I've wasted too many years

Put the shackles of hypocrisy on your own growth

Grow yourself into a bald tree, no flowers, no fruits

fluttering in the succession of the seasons

Now the wind and dust are peeling me off layer by layer

I am not willing to suffer like this

I am not willing to be so rotten

Although I was scarred

My mind has never been numb

I still want to grow, I want to blossom, and I want to bear fruit

I also want to grow into a landscape that shows vigorously

I know the price of growing again

I know the pain of transformation

I had to break the trajectory of my upbringing

I have to completely deny the pattern I used to be.]

I had to start again

I had to recast my edges

I had to rebuild my strength

Let growth take root and sprout

Let yourself grow into a free-spirited image

Allow yourself to develop a mindset that moves forward

Let yourself grow into new beliefs and be full of energy

Let yourself have a new life experience that is no longer a fragile bubble

I think—

I can still hold a spear

I can still roar on the battlefield

I can still run the war like crazy

Even if this fight is just a short leap

I also want to take such a leap and firmly freeze the new life

Freeze on your own life's journey

Freeze on the battlefield you've fought

Let the later warriors no longer fight vainly

Let the battlefield of later warriors be broader

Let the faith of the later warriors fly and sing under the blue sky

Let the excellent latecomers be distinguished by the comings and goings of the world