Waiting for all the flowers and pistils, accompany you alone. once the spring goes, the beauty is old, the flowers fall and the people die.
The still water flows deep, cangsheng treads the song; the third life is cloudy and clear, one day is sad and joyful. Lights and stars, people's voice is silent, song is not the beacon fire in troubled times. As beautiful as flowers, as time flies, back to the past, can not return to the original.
