A river flows slowly through a thousand years; a song is softly sung in the ear. How many years have passed, how many rises and falls, how many beauties have grown old in the blink of an eye? She herself is a stirring song, a melodious poem. I stand at this end of history, looking back a thousand years, is that you?
This is not Jiangnan, but it has the misty rain of Jiangnan. Paper umbrellas, raindrops, footsteps on the blue stone pavement, the lights gradually brightening in the twilight emit a fascinating halo, shy and mysterious, like the red clouds on a maiden's face. A gentle breeze blows, leaves fall gracefully. The tassels sway gently in the wind, permeated by a faint fragrance.
Smoke envelops cold water and sand, the jingling of jade pendants in the past once sounded in whose dream?
"Soft rain, Qinhuai evening adorned with lanterns. Tassels fall, golden toads burn incense around emerald. Dreams are urged, the moon sets, smoke thickens over crystal cups."
The moonlight filters through the window, the distant sound of konghou and sheng evokes delicate thoughts. The beauty in the mirror looks as beautiful as a water lily, her eyelashes lower, revealing a hint of sorrow. Outside the door, the stream flows gently, spring light spreads, the dust of past dreams drifts in, swallows before the hall get drunk in the eastern wind.
In days of joy or sorrow, who shares my drunkenness?
"Painted beams are painted, pearl curtains hang, clear light breaks, the moon is drunk. Drops of clear tears fall on the window, spring comes and goes, spring returns again. Eastern wind blows, blowing away all human joys and sorrows; spring rain gets drunk, getting lost in a foreign land when will it return; spring swallows come back, only thinking of sadness alone. In March, pear blossoms start to bloom on the branches."
Meeting in the most beautiful season. Among countless lanterns, a flute melody crosses the river, imbued with sentiment, ripples in the heart. On the painted boat, amidst red powder and green silk skirts, one cherishes the fragrant grass. Holding a cup under the moon, composing poetry in the wind, dancing gracefully, shadows sway, emotions hard to resist.
For whom does the beauty bloom?
"In previous lantern festivals, on Qinhuai painted boats, faint powder scents, hearing your flute resonate. Dancing gracefully, playing with the rainbow dress, a song of pear blossoms falls beside you."
Without even having time to say goodbye, the parting hidden in the scenery is reminiscent of the faint fragrance of those years. Flower buildings and rain pavilions, a few scattered songs drift with the wind, breaking the heart. Flowers have withered, people have gone far, the shadow hesitating in the season cannot find its way back. Suddenly looking back, the lights along the shore have dimmed, the moon of old seems like from another world! Only the dust of unextinguished fires remains, horses neigh in sorrow without seeing you.
Broken mountains and rivers, broken willow catkins, whose heart breaks again and again in the helplessness of life?
"Today on the painted boat, the scenery resembles the old, flower buildings and rain pavilions sway with music, no old friends wander alone. Seeing the homeland's shattered mountains and rivers, broken tiles condense residual smoke, blood stains the northern wall, beauty decays! Wind howls, horses scream, searching for you hundreds of times."
Tides rise and fall, fate begins and ends, flowers fall profusely in dreams, everything seems like before. But after waking up and facing the mirror, rouge tastes tasteless, people look haggard. Sealed zithers used to hear bamboo flutes and shengs; simple faces used to dance gracefully in dreams.
What wrong did the beauties do?
"Dreams dissipate, chasing past events, fleeting light dances, people grow weary. Rouge fades, heart turns gray, facing plain faces morning and night. Qinhuai water, can it see through sorrow? Qinhuai tears, can they penetrate the cycle?"
No river has ever been so soaked in sorrow, no city has ever been so moving. It's just a pity that people only remember the pleasures of those days, forgetting their sentiments, their hardships...
"Even if the previous life turns to ashes, longing still doesn't regret. Only wish to follow you for life, only wish to be with you for three lifetimes!" Inspired by Xinyin's "Dreaming Back to Qinhuai - Jade Pear Affinity." (Author's self-evaluation)