Celebrate the Chinese New Year with Hanfu

Dark clouds like a painting, a sheet of parting sorrow traversing the hills. Who on the upper floor weeps as if rain pours down? In the style of splashed-ink landscape, the brushstroke is gentle, like brewing wine. Who will gather the scattered thoughts? I pick up my brush not for your worries I turn back to look only for you Who among us can cherish such gentleness with a lifetime's devotion that year? I pick up my brush not for your worries I turn back to look only for you I lost myself to my own worries. Wet in the attic I pick up my brush not for your worries I won't send you a drink of wine Who can cherish such tenderness with a lifetime that year? I pick up my brush not for your worries Just for you, I turn back for a glance I lost myself to my own worries. Wet in the attic I pick up my brush not for your worries I won't send you a drink of wine Who that year could use tenderness for a lifetime?