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月夜了,点燃那只香炉。转身,韶华逝去,只有影子。湿润的雾气弥散,我在哪里?袅袅烟起……憧憬正似窗前的海棠,像芍药最初绽放。
Moonlight lit the censer. Turning around, Huanhua’s death has only shadows. The moist fog spreads. Where am I? Smoke rises from the sky... It resembles a sea bream in front of a window, like a yam medicine blooms initially.