In my life, you are a lovesick tree standing amidst the lonely smoke of the vast desert, flourishing with the visage of spring as seasons change. Gazing into the distance where the sound of horses fades and dust settles, for whom are you lingering in the years of youth returning from afar?
Some loves fail, not because of the helplessness of not being able to marry, but because of the boredom that comes with being married. Yet, helplessness leaves a lasting nostalgia, and boredom sparks a renewed pursuit; perhaps this is a success in its own way.
In the misty red dust, tears fall from those who depart. Love is hard to restrain, and people grow thin; who can understand the tears of longing that flow with the rain? Words fail to express the sorrow; only memories remain when looking back. How much longing and how much sorrow? Love is like a flower—can a single heart ever be misplaced?
You are a woman longing for happiness, and so you blind yourself to chase it, destined to be lost. Your heart is as pure as a maiden; even the sound of blooming flowers startles your dreamlike lake, which might burst into a sea of heartbreak.
If longing could be entwined around soft fingertips, I would pluck the strings of a final song to keep it near. If memories could be forgotten in the quiet of the night, I would long for a deep sleep, dreaming within the mortal world.
Idealistic people see hope in adversity and light in the darkness. Adversity is but a transition, and darkness only a temporary phase. One should cultivate confidence in oneself, earned through overcoming obstacles and tempering one's will and perseverance.
Think positively, look forward, and move toward your goals to make life worthwhile. Life grants us sorrow, but also provides eternal answers. Thus, accept what must be let go and hold fast to transcendence.