[Intro]
[Verse]
The moonlight blurs at the edges of the rice paper
Whose long robe has stirred the dust of Qinhuai
I spread out that stack of yellowed old scrolls
The brush tip still holds gentleness that has lasted a thousand years
The cold wind by the West Lake is slowly brewing
Memories are poured into a faded porcelain pot
The fragrance of three autumns is still slightly cool in the palm
Yet I am lost in my dream from the homeland I once came from

[Chorus]
The most memorable is the osmanthus of Lingyin Temple that year
Falling and covering the old, lonely stories of the empty mountain
Letting that fragrance seep into the cracks of the green bricks
Staging a solo play that no one watches
The most memorable is the waves of the Qiantang River that year
Shattering the sunset and surging into the creed of parting
I stand on the Broken Bridge, listening to the wind walking away in the silence

[Verse]
The red wine of Wu Palace is still warm after midnight
Who got drunk and whose swallows refuse to return to the courtyard
The carved beams and painted rafters have long been worn away by time
Only I still stubbornly search for right and wrong
This pale confession in the deep night
Needs no audience, nor must anyone understand
Repeatedly chanting that line until hoarseness
Watching the morning frost quietly sprout on the bamboo fence

[Chorus]
What I remember most is the osmanthus at Lingyin Temple that year,
Falling and covering the entire empty mountain with desolate past events,
Letting that fragrance seep into the cracks of the green bricks,
Performing a one-man show that no one watches.
What I remember most is the waves of the Qiantang River that year,
Smashing the sunset into ripples, turning into a farewell creed.
I stand on the Broken Bridge, listening to the wind disappearing into silence.

[Chorus]
What I remember most is the Osmanthus at Lingyin Temple that year,
Falling and covering the old solitude of the empty mountain,
Letting that fragrance seep into the cracks of the blue bricks,
Performing a solo play that no one watches.
What I remember most is the waves of the Qiantang River that year,
Shattering the sunset and surging into parting decrees.
I stand on the Broken Bridge, listening to the wind leave in the silence.

[Outro]