As night gradually cools, the flowers fall like frost. You gaze from afar, exhausting all the twilight. If not for thoughts, how could we forget each other? The cool night colors turn into a river of my longing for you, transforming into spring mud to protect me. The cool sky is shimmering with floral colors, falling into the mortal world, hurting me. There were times of graying hair, times of returning light because of you. The long years drift by, how can we waste time? To wander, to exchange for growth. The cool three lives and three worlds feel like a dream. In a moment, the years dry the tears. When will the cool ten miles bloom again in spring? Once more, under the tree, a lamp of wind remains.