Back then, I was full of vigor and vitality and could not listen to anything. Just like you are now silent and can't say anything. My black hair turned white in an instant, and I am old. Who can I tell? If the spring breeze has pity on flowers, can you let me be young again? When I was young, I was proud of my lofty writing skills, but now the spring flowers have fallen and I am filled with desolation.