The books opened by loneliness,
There is a galaxy of starry skims.
Alone without your name flashing.
That very simple love,
Because of the limitations of space-time.
You can no longer be left in a yellowed diary.
De-sprouting to grow.
The faint orchid spread out by the window,
And its beauty is empty under the moon.
For whom is lonely,
And for whom to linger,
Sigh softly in the moonlight,
The night incense is also saddened.
Can't play the song of longing.
Let the starlight be brought to the far side and give it to you one by one.