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浩浩愁，茫茫劫； 短歌终，明月缺。 郁郁佳城，中有碧血； 碧亦有时尽，血亦有时灭。 一缕香魂无断绝！ 是耶？非耶？ 化为蝴蝶。。。
The sorrow is oh so vast;
Misfortunes all around.
The ballade ends abruptly;
The moon, bright, but no longer round.
In that beautiful city where she’s from,
There runs loyal blood, red and hot.
The red will one day fade out;
The blood will eventually run out;
But her soul will never perish, her scent never rot.
A butterfly just swings by.
Is that her, is that not? |
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