Wèi yī rén (为 一 人)

The wind embraces the lines of your mouth
Speaking of the distant rain
In my dream, I hear a pause
Narrating the rings of memory

Before waiting for that sentence of deep affection
Daring to exchange a lifetime of flowers
Floating dust
Handing over the old memories to seal the stories
Love is the language left by the mortal world

Flowers bloom and fall, holding an umbrella leaves shadows
People have the moon as their true dependence
Love is the early spring encountered in desolation
Silently pushing open the door to the heart

People turn and act in accordance with etiquette
Willing to be your unique dust
The palm lines in the hands
Disrupt the balance of longing

Endless gazes
Written in every heavy soul
Amidst the chaos, seeking stability
Napari and the remnants of illusions

Handing over the stories to the moon, composing the dust
Love is the language left by the mortal world
Flowers bloom and fall, holding an umbrella leaves shadows
People have the moon as their true dependence

Love is the early spring encountered in desolation
Silently pushing open the door to the heart
People turn and act in accordance with etiquette
Willing to be your unique dust

Love is the language left by the mortal world
Flowers bloom and fall, holding an umbrella leaves shadows
People have the moon as their true dependence
Love is the early spring encountered in desolation

Silently pushing open the door to the heart
People turn and act in accordance with etiquette
Willing to be your unique dust