Looking back on, I wonder
Whether I am the poverty and sorrow's lover.
To make a living, I have to work hard.
My youth has gone as fast as a mirage,
So I don't have time to waste of.
The swan's dreams are so big that they scare sparrows off.
Oftentimes I feel lost and frustrated.
I have to keep going while being exhausted.
The elegant plums in snow feel so light,
And they never admire cranes flying high.