That year in January

On that day, I closed my eyes in the misty fog of the temple,
Suddenly you hear the truth in your song;

In January, I shook all the channels,
Not super level, just touch your fingertip;

That year, the head of the system crawled on the mountain road,
It's not just about your warmth;

That one, turning mountains into water and turning buddha tower,
Not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the way.

In January, I turned around all the channels,
It is not super-high, just to touch your fingerprint;

That year, I gritted my head and embraced the dust,
Not for the Buddha, just for your warmth;

That one, I rummaged through 100,000 mountains,
Not to repair the afterlife, but to meet you on the road;

But that night, I forgot everything,
Throwing away faith and abandoning reincarnation,
Only for the rose that used to cry before the Buddha,
It has long lost its luster.