Stranger, you are waiting for a person's return.Unrelated to the moon, only for the true feelings in the heart.Where the Gardenia Flower is scatteredMy fingers touched the thread and twisted into knots.The cool autumn wind is still coming.The late spring, the old city. There is a thin evening in the sky. Inadvertently mining chrysanthemum in South Mountain, unintentional chanting willows on the shore. After countless times of recognition of the hoofs, his face on the Xuan paper was blurred in the tears of no one.
陌上，你在等待一个人的归来。无关风月，只为心中真情，在那栀子花散尽的地方，我曾指尖轻触那一缕青丝，缠绕成结。深凉的秋风还在不断地袭来。那迟迟不来的春，那久久不变的城。人空瘦的黄昏，思念幸有薄酒暂暖。无意南山采菊，无意岸边吟柳。在无数次的马蹄声错认以后，宣纸上他的容颜，模糊在一片无人时的清泪中。
