I have my own pleasures and joys, who will walk with me on my path?

A drizzle and a westerly wind make the morning chill, delicate mist and slender willows grace the clear beach. The clear Lo blossoms in the Huai River gradually deepen. Foam and milk float in the afternoon cup, (létóng háosǔn -, -,) test the spring's delicacies. The taste of life is found in quiet joy.

Tired, weary, exhausted, tired, disillusioned, I long to escape the noisy city and the struggles of the bureaucracy, to forget fame and desire, and to experience the simple pleasures of country tea and quiet meals, accompanied by the calls of chickens and dogs.

A thought arises, like a surging tide; words and ink fragrance; intricate, shimmering (liúlí - , -), transcending oceans and horizons, to express devoted love and longing.

Let's share a cup of wine, enjoy the scenery, cherish time, and seek quiet joy. A season of consideration, a season of yearning, a journey through mountains and rivers, and a meeting with a chance encounter.

At Cape Canaveral, at the edge of the world, soft and damp, clothing soaked through, gazing fixedly, capturing the gaze.

Paint a fleeting scene of joy, play a piece of high mountain and flowing water, gently draw a curtain of light breeze into the strings, who will accompany me, between clouds and water?!

Before we meet, I already miss you; before we know each other, I already sympathize with you!

When and where, who will wrap my heart in a windbreaker; which year and month, who will hold an umbrella for me.

Twilight, the setting sun, with gray hair and white beard, the desired joy is revealed.

I have my own tranquil haven, who will walk alongside me?!