Do not come and knock at my gates

My heart—

It is an ancient temple that has fallen into disrepair

In the bleak wind and cold rain of the century

It has long been left out in the cold

Dusty hearts are not worshipped

The cobweb-covered bronze bell is rusty

Only the bell of the long ago

Still banging on the pilgrimage written into history

There is no need to sympathize with my desolation

Don't pity my pathos

Thousands of years of vicissitudes have eroded my luxuriation

Memories that have come to an end

It's still in the original atmosphere

Don't come to visit my serenity

My heart—

It's this desolate island

Never intervened in the red dust grievances

Let the artemisia grass grow

The loneliness and indifference of Rong Ku I

I'm used to barrenness

I'm used to being alone

I'm used to keeping myself in the wind and rain—

Coldly alone

The years of being alone gradually came to an end

Don't salvage my grievances

My heart—

It is a lonely duckweed in the sea

Life is uncertain

The mood is shaky

Just let the heart that has already failed-

Ups and downs in the ebb and flow of the tide

My love has withered

My love has withered

I don't have the luxury of hoping for the stories I once had

-- Prosperity

Don't, really don't

Don't touch any of the pain of my memory

In the midst of my years

I just want to—

Quietly watching

The setting sun slowly sinks into the clouds

"Wandering Love and Affection" We 64, My Heart...... I am hitting it in my hand, please wait a moment,

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