Lyrics of the seventh dreamer by Lin Xieyang

Sun and moon, mountain and lake

In his eyes, everything has evolved

The most beautiful is a burst of spring sun

Paint the shadow of holly in the corner into an unknown shape

The warbler flies, the grass grows, the mountain grows, and the water grows

Birds roam to the cliffs of the North Sea

Fish in Wanchuan return pitch

He wandered through too many scenes that nobody wanted to see

The sound of bagpipes in my ears blows the dust slowly

He clapped his fist against the beating heart

The most ragged man has the sun in his arms

There are songs in the young years

There are thousands of very gentle poems on the tip of the tongue

He wandered alone deep in the clouds

The crowd was surging and suddenly mute

The warbler flies, the grass grows, the mountain grows, and the water grows

Birds roam to the cliffs of the North Sea

Fish in Wanchuan return pitch

He wandered through too many scenes that nobody wanted to see

The sound of bagpipes in my ears blows the dust slowly

He clapped his fist against the beating heart

The most ragged man has the sun in his arms

He was lost in the soil of birth and death

The nib of the pen staggers and may knock on the lines of poetry

See the soul wandering, but dare not say

The crowd was surging and suddenly mute