Running deep and still in my solitude soul.
How many mountains and valleys should it pass by
To find a right place to stay and to fill?
Like the adventurers in a desert of despair
I'd wind up a thousand miles
Just to embrace the reflection of an unknown smile.
The stories of my river are anything but special.
Every kiss withered with ripples of joy and tides of sorrow.
Now it is running into you
Thus I'll perhaps sift out more lines of gold
Yet none of them could compare to you