Vast, vast sadness, Boundless, boundless loss.
The song has ended, The moon has been snatched away .
In the midst of the mournful city
There is a patriot's blood.
Patriotism is sometimes exhausted
Blood sometimes runs dry
But the thread of your fragrant spirit has not been snapped!
Is it not so? You have become a butterfly.
发表于 2009-10-14 11:16:30
