Lyrics of Qi Luan's zhishou

Travel thousands of mountains

The cold moon is like frost on the top of clouds

Book long volume, product gather scattered, road joys and sorrows

No Chang'an in turbulent times

The light of the sword is cold, but there is no young Wan

Step on the saddle, shadow gradually

A distant acquaintance

If you don't speak, you'll feel sorry

Burning sandalwood fog, as if he had broken plum

Eyebrows and eyes smile, there are fallen over the shoulder

Drunk at the desk, sleeping at last

There are many old stories

Dream, heart born three thousand

I only hope that this life will be able to grow flowers

Still keep this side of your world

Grinding dust and smoke into the world, into the mountains and rivers city wall

No more bone buried sand

Clothes return home, caressed fingertips tremble

Residual temperature, inch by inch blood dye

Love is deep, meaning is hard to complete

After leaving, he wandered around

You go all over the place by yourself

I only hope that this life will be able to grow flowers

Still keep this side of your world

Grinding dust and smoke into the world, into the mountains and rivers city wall

No more bone buried sand

I'd like to wait till the summer night to get three feet of snow

In exchange for a busy afterlife

A hundred years has gone by in turn

How to seek a so-called perfect competition

Floating up and down, just like fireworks in the golden age

North wind, wild geese return to the south, if Chang'an