When was the fire of love planted in my heart? For everything else, she only goes to death; with your bath alone, the sun in my heart, she burns to the fullest, and burns more vigorously. Oh, the rose opens the buds in April, each branch burning into a fiery fire, if in the harsh winter, who will remember her sweet fragrance? Just as in the night of sin, the burning charcoal fire is suffocated by ice and snow, and once my fire is transplanted into winter, how hard will she burn it! The fierce wind raged and tugged at her roots, the cold current specialized in her heart, and everything in the winter was against her, against her; but even if the landslide tsunami, as long as I lived, this fire would continue to burn in my heart socket.
People in the mountains
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