The rain that night couldn't keep you, the wind in the valley accompanied me in crying.
The sound of your camel bells seems to still ring in my ears, telling me that you have been here.
The wine I brewed can't make me drunk, but the songs you sang can make me drunk.
I am willing to accompany you across the snow-capped mountains and the Gobi Desert, but you left without saying goodbye and cut off all news.
My sweetheart, I am waiting for you in Keketuohai, they said you married in Yili.
Is it because of the beautiful Nalati there, or the apricot blossoms there?
Only then can you brew the sweetness you want, and the sound of camel bells rings outside the yurt.