Silently going upstairs to the boudoir by myself
Silver crescent is hanging
A lonely phoenix tree standing in the deep garden
All the doors of a crispy autumn night are locked
It never can be cut and break up
It never can be figured out
What is it of missing you?
That is as much feeling as for you in my heart, never be more and never be less.
note: This is translated from an ancient poem from Yu Li
Sep 17, 2017
Sep 17, 2017 at 2:21 AM UTC
Silently going upstairs to the boudoir by myself
Silver crescent is hanging
A lonely phoenix tree standing in the deep garden
All the doors of a crispy autumn night are locked
It never can be cut and break up
It never can be figured out
What is it of missing you?
That is as much feeling as for you in my heart, never be more and never be less.
note: This is translated from an ancient poem from Yu Li
