Looking for a thousand years, the old dreams are blurred.

This sigh is how much sorrow there is in the world.

The world is falling, and I am sad and crying.

The pipa is still ringing here today.

Playing the pipa with your hand is crisp and jingling.

Put your eyebrows down, keep fighting, keep fighting, and do everything to your heart.

Put your eyebrows down, continue to play, and play with the infinite things in your heart.

Laughter and laughter have become memories of yesterday, and the pipa is crisp.

Why leave each other when there are tears in your eyes and tears in your eyes?

There are tears, there are tears, and lovesickness has nowhere to send.

Laughter has become a memory of yesterday.

Beauty is no longer as old, empty and sad as before.

This sigh is how much sorrow there is in the world.

Play alone for thousands of years and sigh alone.

Play alone for thousands of years and sigh alone.

A pipa song made them cry.

How many people are stupid, how many people complain, and how many people hate.

A pipa song made them cry.

How many people are stupid, how many people are wronged, and how many people are there. . . .

Hate, hate, hate forever, sink in memory.

From then on, the west window cut the candle and added fragrant tea, and the dream turned into dust, even though it was hated for generations.

How many people are lonely, how many people are ecstatic and how many people are sad when a pipa is played.

How many people are lonely, how many people are ecstatic and how many people are ecstatic when a pipa is played. . . .

Sad, my heart is broken, I can't miss you anymore.

From then on, the ends of the earth separated and a pipa played.

A pipa, which has been played since ancient times.

How many people are stupid, how many people have grievances, even if they play for a long time, they will still hate.

How many people are lonely, how many people are ecstatic, and a pipa is full of sadness.