I am a poor wayfaring stranger…
When will the spring flowers and autumn moon come to an end?
So much memory of the past overwhelmed my brain
Yesterday night, the east wind blew over the petite pavilion again
In bright moonlight, I can not recall the late homeland without pain
The carved rails and jade stairs should remain
but the beauty’s face will not be the same
May I ask, how much sorrow you contain?
Just like the spring water running to the orient
Like Barley Bending
Fireworks Quench Shortly
The drizzling rain keeps on
Grass at the old home grows lush and long
I heard you had been alone
The melody of reed pipe echos around
in that deserted suburb town
Listening to the drizzling sound
longing for eternity, my heart will go on
Different rivers flow，different mountains soar high;
The same wind blows, the same moon shines, under the same sky.