One day, I died, hate my people dance, love my tears like dew.
The next day my haters looked at my grave with a smile on their faces. Those who loved me did not dare to look back. My grave is full of rain and wind. People who hate me still look angry when they mention me occasionally after dinner and tea. People who love me cry to whom silent tears cry in the dead of night.
Ten years later, I had no body, only bones. Hate me, only vaguely remember my name
I've forgotten my face. Love me to the deep, ah, think of me, there is a short silence, life all gradually blurred.
Decades later, the rain and wind swept away my grave, leaving nothing but desolation. Those who hate me, forget me.
He who loves me most goes into his grave.
To this world, I become nothing at all. I struggle all my life, can not take away a grass and a tree. I am persistent in life, can not take away a vain love.
So, live with your heart and don't judge by what others see.
Love and hate, in fact, are only against those who are alive.
Every day happiness is good, cherish the heart most want to cherish. Three thousand prosperous, a moment, a hundred years later, but a handful of yellow sand.
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